


Lancea Longini

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: Modern-day AU where Steve is a college professor whose specialty is WWII. You work for Stark Industries and after leading an excavation of Hitler’s secret bunker, you find an object that was thought to be a legend.





	1. Chapter 1

You were late. You _hated_ being late. Another thing you could probably blame on your father. But now wasn’t the time or the place. Now, you needed to haul ass. Your heels click-clacked as you walked briskly, sending an echo down that hall that set your teeth on edge. The classroom was easy to find. Not that you needed to ask for directions or look at a map; it was your alma mater. These hallways and classrooms were once your home.

Without a second thought, you pushed the door open and strode over to the desk. “So sorry I’m late, Professor Rogers.”

Sparkling blue eyes narrowed as he shook your outstretched hand. “And you are…,” his voice drifted off, waiting for you to supply your name.

You stuttered, fumbling over your words as the weight of hundreds of eyes bore into you. That’s when you knew what was happening. “Miss Y/L/N, and I’m obviously here at the wrong time.”

He went from slightly irritated to full-blown ruffled in the blink of an eye. He cleared his throat before addressing you. “As I rescheduled our meeting last week, I would say that yes, you are here at the wrong time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have students eagerly waiting to learn.”

With your face burning and a forced, close-lipped smile, you turned your back and began heading toward the door. “However, if you’d like to watch, there is an empty seat at the back.”

He waited until you found your seat before picking up where he had left off; which was shortly after of his introduction. “Welcome to America between the Wars, 1919-1941. Following a decade of stability and prosperity, the dislocations caused by the Great Depression disrupted the lives and shook the institutions of the American people, leading to unprecedented political and cultural experimentation. Emphasizing both the contrasts and continuities between the 1920s and 1930s, this class will investigate the patterns of political, social, cultural, economic, and intellectual life during the interwar period, with special emphasis on the tensions between radical and conservative tendencies.”

You dug in your bag and pulled out the tablet that was connected to the office. Weird. The date and time were the same they had always been. While Professor Rogers continued on about the expectations of the class for the semester, you sent your secretary an instant message.

_Y: Did Professor Rogers reschedule the meeting?_

_D: Sure did! Last week._

_Y: Really? Because I’m looking at my schedule and it’s the same it’s always been._

_D: You sure? I could’ve sworn… Ohhhh you know what? I didn’t synchronize the calendar! My bad. :(_

And just like magic, your calendar updated, pushing the meeting out to the afternoon. If Darcy wasn’t the CEO’s granddaughter, you’d have her fired. You sent her a quick thank you and made yourself as comfortable as you could in the hard-backed seat.

* * *

When the last student left, you descended the stairs and approached the desk Steve had just circled. His back was to you as he erased his notes from the board. You were there in a professional manner and yet, you couldn’t take your eyes off his broad shoulders, how they shifted under the dark blue sweater, stretching the seams until you thought they would rip. Or how the blue-and-white plaid dress shirt beneath started to pull from his dark-wash jeans, exposing a hip bone.

Your mouth went dry, which made it difficult to speak. “I apologize for barging in. There was a glitch within our servers and-”

“Stark Industries had a glitch in their servers? Did I miss the press conference?” Sarcasm was thick on his tongue.

Your left eye twitched slightly. Great. Just great. Another one of Tony’s…. fans. “Steve-”

Facing you, he shook his head. “Professor Rogers.”

“I understand with it being the start of a new school year that you’re busy, so thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.” You needed to get to the point, the whole reason for the visit, but being nice and making amends was more important right now.

The scowl that furrowed his brow softened and he gave you a half-smile. “Your secretary did say it was important.”

The weight of what was your in bag seemed to double… triple. You shifted on your feet and looked over your shoulder as if you were being watched. “I… is there someplace we can talk. You know, in private?”

“Is that really necessary?” Even though he tried hard not to show it, Steve was still clearly irritated by the whole ordeal.

No. It wasn’t necessary. There was just a chill on the back of your neck that you hadn’t been able to get rid of since you smuggled the artifact out of Stark Industries the night before. Talking someplace private was just to try and settle your nerves. Truth be told, the only thing that could probably do the job was aged about 50 years.

As if he could read your mind, he ushered you back into an office, shut and locked the door, and filled a glass with a healthy serving of whiskey. He sat on the edge of a desk, crossed his arms, and waited patiently for you to speak.

Your voice was raspy from the burn of whiskey, “What do you know about the Holy Lance?”


	2. Chapter 2

With one eyebrow arched, Steve stared at you, scoffing when you asked the question again. “You’re serious.”

“As a damn heart attack, Professor.”

He scoffed again and pushed away from his desk. “Only one problem with that, Miss Y/L/N, the Holy Lance, or Spear of Destiny as most know it as, doesn’t exist. It’s pure mythology. Even the Catholic Church has not made a claim to the authenticity of the ones in Rome and Vienna.”

It was your turn to scoff. You set the empty glass on his desk, followed quickly by the heavy bag on your shoulder. “Do you know what it is that I do, Professor Rogers?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you didn’t give him a chance. “I’m one of the country’s top archeologists. It must run in the family because in 1920, my grandfather stumbled upon King Tut’s tomb and in 1936, he discovered the Baghdad batteries. It was my father’s turn in 1974; unearthing the Terracotta Army. Then, in 1977, he discovered the tomb of Philip II of Macedon. Flash forward to 2004, it was my team that uncovered the site of the Aztec sacrifices just outside of Mexico City, as well as the Anglo-Saxon metalwork in Staffordshire a few years back. I could go on, Professor, but I have a feeling I’ve made my point.”

With his teeth grinding, Steve nodded once. “People have been searching for centuries, what makes you so sure you’ve found it?”

You didn’t want to take it out of your bag, not yet. “There’s been this persistent idea, widely canvassed in a sensational genre of literature, that the Nazis were principally inspired and directed by occult agencies from 1920 to 1945. We also know that Adolf was notoriously crazy. He would have used anything, mystical or not, that might have helped in his quest for domination.”

“This isn’t news to me, Y/N,” he doesn’t even try and hide the sarcasm on his tongue.

“Which is exactly why I requested a meeting. Might I have a refill?”

Steve was silent as he took your glass, filled it, and handed it back. Not even saying a word even while you drank the aged whiskey. You sucked in a shuddering breath as heat blossomed in your belly and spread up to your chest. You weren’t normally one for drinking on the job, and if you kept this up, you’d be half in the bag before dinner, but if anything called for it, it was this.

“We caught wind of a rumor floating around that Adolf had a secret bunker, but no one had been able to find any shred of proof that one existed. And then six months ago, I got this crazy idea. What if it he wanted to keep it close to his heart? Adolf was a bit of a romantic, in a weird and twisted way. What if… what if he made a bunker where he was born?”

Steve’s brows were furrowed and you could almost see the gears spinning and turning in his head. “You went to Braunau am Inn?”

“It wasn’t easy, by any means. Did you know they want to tear it down? I mean, not that I blame them, but still… it’s… it’s a piece of history.” After a steely stare from Steve, you cleared your throat before getting back on track. “Anyway, I uh, I managed to talk them into letting my team and I on the property. So for the next three months, we scoured and scavenged and just when we were getting to the end of our ropes, we got lucky.”

It was then that you unfastened your bag and pulled out a small photo album and handed it over. Steve’s eyes widened a little when he saw the extent of your find. “That is putting it mildly, Y/N.”

Proud of you and your team, you couldn’t stop from smiling. “We hit the fucking jackpot! Art that was thought to have been lost at the end of the war, jewels as big as my hand, journals that Adolf wrote when he was a kid, and… and it had been there this whole damn time!”

He closed the album and handed it back. “That’s great, but what does all of that have to do with the spear?”

Your hand shook as you replaced the album and pulled out a six-inch long, carefully-wrapped package. After setting it on his desk, you undid the knot and began to pull back the thin cotton layers. Those quickly gave way to dark wax paper. When you went to pull those away, you unknowingly held your breath. It wasn’t that the spear was stunning or in pristine condition. It was the fact that you had found it. Not your team or anyone else in the eighty-plus years since the war, but you. You had been the one to unearth the spear. That was more than enough to make you feel like you had when travelling with your father on one of his digs.

Steve stared at it for several long moments before asking, “That’s it? That’s the Holy Lance?”

You glared at him as you lifted your gaze. “You could at least pretend to be… I don’t know, excited.”

Scoffing, Steve stood tall and grabbed a folder off his desk. “You’re asking me to be excited over something I don’t believe exists.”

“But you do believe it did at one time.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course the spear existed, but that was over 3,000 years ago, Y/N. There’s no way it could have survived thousands of years in God knows what kind of environments,” Steve couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice.

You stood tall and arched a brow, all but goading him, “Prove it.”

* * *

Steve slammed the empty shot glass on the bar and hissed through his teeth at the burn of alcohol. He couldn’t believe that within the first minute of meeting Y/N, she had managed to creep under his skin, irritating him more than any other person had; best friend included.

Bucky dropped onto the stool next to Steve. “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t get me started.”

The friends took a shot together before Bucky turned to Steve. “You gonna spill, or what?”

Steve let the silence stretch between them, even after a glass with a healthy portion of whiskey was slid in front of him. “Got someone claiming they found the Spear of Destiny.”

Bucky stared at his friend as if he had magically grown a third head. “Th- that’s it? That’s the reason you’re getting plastered on the first night of classes?”

The glass was emptied quickly. “I’m not getting plastered.”

“Steve, I haven’t seen you drink this much since Peg-”

“Leave Peggy out of this, Buck,” his voice was thick with emotions he thought he had buried long ago.

Bucky clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “Who brought in the spear?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve tossed back another glassful of whiskey and rasped out her name. “She works for Stark Industries, and trust me when I say that Tony isn’t the only arrogant one in that building. Must be a job qualification or something.”

“Are you pissed because she works for Tony or because she’s… arrogant?” Bucky had a feeling he knew what this really about, but getting Steve to admit it would be pretty damn difficult.

 _It’s because she reminds me of Peggy_ , he thought with a shake of his head. “Arrogant, just like Tony.”

Bucky sighed before pulling out his wallet. “Alright, punk, let’s get you home before you empty the bar and miss class tomorrow.”

Steve was far from drunk, but Bucky was right. Left to his own devices, he would spend the rest of the night there, drowning his sorrows in whiskey and tequila. Sorrows that smelled like rain on a spring morning. With a dry chuckle, he pushed away from the bar and nudged Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks, jerk.”


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the jet lag paired with whiskey and wine from the night before, you woke up feeling rather refreshed and ready to take on the day. You showered and dressed, drank a cup -or three- of coffee and checked your phone for any missed messages. To your surprise, no one from the office -particularly Mr. Stark- had called wondering where you were. Even more surprising, you had a text from an unknown number. **  
**

You couldn’t help but snort in laughter. While you had just met Steve yesterday, you knew a drunk man when you saw one. This would make for interesting conversation when you stopped by his office later. But for now, you wanted to take a stroll through town; reminisce a little. Pocketing your keys and phone, you locked the door behind you and ventured into the college town you hadn’t stepped foot in in over a decade.

* * *

Steve had obviously been more inebriated than he originally thought, because when he woke the next morning, his head was pounding and his tongue tasted like he licked the top of the bar. Getting ready for class almost proved to be a challenge, but he managed to keep from emptying his stomach while he showered and dressed. It was dry toast and coffee for breakfast, with a side of aspirin before heading out the door.

It seemed to take forever to get through class, but that could have had something to do with the fact that Steve kept stumbling over the curriculum. The material wasn’t anything new, he just couldn’t get his brain and mouth to work together. A couple of students chuckled every now and again, but Steve trudged on, cringing and groaning loudly when the bell buzzed.

“Even though there isn’t class tomorrow, don’t think you’re getting off lightly. I want you to discern and critique the strategies, tactics, leaders, and lessons learned during the fighting in the China-Burma-India Theater, New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, the Aleutians, and in the Philippines. And it is due on Friday.” Groans and complaints echoed in the classroom and Steve thought he was going to throw up.

* * *

Not a lot had changed since the last time you were in town. There was the addition of a Starbucks and Target, but other than that, the family shopping centers and diners you had fallen in love with, remained intact. Several of the people that worked there remembered you and it was impossible to leave without catching up, even if it took over an hour.

By the time you stepped away from the latest round of catch up, your stomach growled and the sun was beginning to descend. You ducked into the nearest cafe and just as you were about to sit down, you heard a familiar voice say your name. It took you a moment to place the voice, the exact amount of time it took you to turn around, before someone leapt into your arms.

Returning the embrace, you laughed at the flood of memories. “Jesus, Nat! What the hell are you doing here?”

The petite red-headed woman gave you another squeeze before letting go. “I live here with my husband. What about you?”

“Found something on a dig, brought it down to have it authenticated. Well, have it authenticated or die trying. Turns out, the guy is kind of an ass.”

Nat clicked her tongue as she looped her arm in yours, directing you to a table. “Who are you dealing with? Don’t tell me it’s Fury.”

Your laugh was rich. “Fuck, not that asshole! No, this guy’s name is Steve… oh, excuse me, Professor Rogers,” you drew out the o, rolling your eyes as you did so. As your luck would have it, the man you just mentioned was looking up at you.

You swallowed hard enough that it hurt. “Hey,” was all you could muster.

Steve gave a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to a very familiar looking guy. Before you could say anything, Nat was asking you to join them for dinner. “It’s been forever! Give us a chance to catch up while you’re in town.”

Seeing that you’d be sitting next to a visibly irritated Steve, you shook your head. “I should… uh… get back. You know, check in with the office.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath, Steve scoffed loudly. There was a _bang_ under the table, then Steve jumped and shot a glare across the table. He ground his teeth, stood, and pulled out a chair. He even went so far to push it in after you dropped down. His attention immediately went to the glass of water in front of him. That, and the man you recognized but couldn’t quite place.

It was when Natasha asked what you had brought in for authenticating when you put it together. “I knew I recognized you,” you mumbled as you dug out your phone. You showed the text message to Nat first, and while she was laughing, she showed it to the still unnamed man.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep from laughing. “Dude, you actually sent it?”

Brows furrowed together, Steve grabbed the phone and stared at it like he hadn’t seen technology like it before. “Wha… who… how did you get this?”

“I’m assuming you sent it to me last night. Why, I have no earthly idea.” Holding out your hand, you wiggled your fingers back and forth, silently demanding that your phone be returned.

“But… I don’t even remember-”

“I told you, man, you were loaded.”

“Shut it, Buck,” Steve all but snarled.

Nat rolled her eyes playfully. “Boys, play nice, we have a guest.”

Steve ground his teeth together while Buck continued to laugh. “Oh come on, Steve, lighten up.”

Two minutes ago, you were famished. Now, all you wanted to do was get out of the uncomfortable situation that made your stomach roll. “I uh… thanks Nat for inviting me, but um… I gotta get back. Turns out I’m not so hungry. We’ll catch up later, yeah?” You were up and out of your seat before anyone could object.

The sun had almost completely disappeared by the time you exited the diner, clouds were still painted crimson and chartreuse. And sure enough, as soon as the cool air hit your face and washed away all the awkwardness, your stomach protested, loudly objecting the previous decision. You were just about to turn the corner when someone called out your name. Having only met him yesterday, there was no mistaking Steve’s voice. Sighing heavily, you stopped and turned, watching warily as he approached.

You worked hard to keep the irritation from your voice,“Professor. What can I do for you?”

“I uh… I wanted to apologize for that… in the diner. I shouldn’t have-”

“Nat sent you, didn’t she?”

He stuttered for a moment, “Well, yeah, but-”

Were you faultless in the whole thing? No, far from it. But apologizing because someone else told you to? “Just… forget about it. Go back and enjoy your dinner. Sorry I barged in.”

You hadn’t walked more than ten feet when he fell into step beside you. “So… you and Nat, huh?”

The irritation flowing through you began to ebb. “Yeah, we uh… wow, we got into some crazy shit back then. Never thought I’d see the day where she was married, though.”

Steve had his hands shoved into the pockets of a black wool trenchcoat. “And to my best friend.”

“Small world.” The pair of you walked in silence for a stretch, the only sounds being various sounds of nature and conversations from passing pedestrians. “You uh… you don’t have to walk me home. I may have been gone for a decade, but I remember my way around.”

Smirking, Steve’s shoulder bobbed in an uncommitted shrug. “And suffer the wrath of my mother and Nat? No thank you.”

Since meeting the man, you had only smiled once and meant it. This was the second time. “Yeah, Nat can be quite the handful, huh?”

“Sounds like you’ve got some stories about her.”

“Oh… the things that I have seen! I should have gone to therapy,” your voice was thick with laughter, something you didn’t expect to be doing around Steve; not after your initial meeting.

Basic chit-chat was exchanged and before long, you were outside the apartment building. Pulling the keys from your pocket, you turned to Steve. It must have been the full moon or the street lights, but your breath hitched in your throat at the way he looked at that particular moment in time.

You cleared your throat before it became obvious that you were staring. “I want to apologize, Professor, what I said earlier was out of line.”

His mouth pulled into a lopsided smirk. “Apology accepted, but only if you accept mine.”

“That’s a reasonable request. Alright, then, apology accepted.” Clearing your throat, you held out your hand to him. “I’m Y/N,” it felt a little silly to be introducing yourself, but what do they say about a clean slate?

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Steve.” His hand wrapped around yours and your mouth went dry.

“I should… uh… thank you for… walking me back.” Your hand slid from his, but not before he brushed his thumb along your palm.

“It’s no problem, really.”

With a small smile, you turned and started up the steps, stopping when Steve called out.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Steve tried really hard not to sound nervous, but it had been a long time since he was in this sort of situation. _What if you said no?_

It might have been 10 years since you had last been on campus, but you’d never forget when the first football game of the season was. With a shy smile, you answered, “Not too busy for football.”

His whole face lit up and he couldn’t stop the smile from taking over. “Now that I know where you live, pick you up at 6?”

“You also have my phone number.”

Crimson colored his cheeks as his eyes fell to the ground. “I uh… I’m sorry about that.”

It was your laughing that brought his eyes up to yours. “Don’t be. It looked like you were having a lot of fun. Buck, not so much.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong there.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously before continuing, “So, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you confirmed. You felt his eyes on you as you unlocked the door and disappeared inside.


	4. Chapter 4

There were text messages from Nat when you went to plug in your phone. You wanted to ignore them and just go to bed, but if you knew anything, it was that Natasha was relentless; she’d text until you answered.

 _ **Y:** I made it home, mom, thanks ;)  
_ _ **NAT:** Did Steve apologize?? I’ll beat him up if I have to.  
_ _ **Y:** Calm down there, Tiny. Everything’s fine.  
_ _ **NAT:** Everything’s fine, huh? Spill it, bitch.  
_ _ **Y:** Nothing to spill.  
_ _ **NAT:** Don’t make me come over there.  
_ _ **Y:** You don’t even know where I’m staying.  
_ _ **NAT:** I’m guessing Steve does since he didn’t come back.  
_ _ **Y:** UGH, fine! He asked me to the football game tomorrow.  
_ _ **NAT:** Ooooooo a daaaaaate! ;)  
_ _ **Y:** Shut up! It’s not a date. It’s the first game of the season. Remember those?  
_ _ **NAT:** My God, do I ever. We used to get so wasted.  
_ _ **Y:** You don’t really think it’s a date… do you?  
_ _ **NAT:** Knowing Steve, yeah.  
_ _ **Y:** Shit.  
_ _ **NAT:** What’s so bad about it?  
_ _ **Y:** Dude… I called him an ass… in front of his face!  
_ _ **NAT:** Yeah, you did sound like a royal class bitch.  
_ _ **Y:** Shut up.  
_ _ **NAT:** So it’s a date, whatever. You’re a grown ass woman. Deal with it. Maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself. Wait… you did say yes, right?  
_ _ **Y:** Yes, Natasha, I said yes.  
_ _ **NAT:** Good. Now, if it turns out that it really **is** a date… you break his heart, I’ll break your neck.  
_ _ **Y:** WHAT?! Why?  
_ _ **NAT:** Steve’s fiance was killed several years back. It was the week before their wedding.  
_ _ **Y:** Jesus.  
_ _ **NAT:** This is the first time he’s asked anyone out.  
_ _ **Y:** No pressure.  
_ __ **NAT:** Exactly ;)

It was difficult to fall asleep after that. Not like you were much of a sleeper to begin with, but what little sleep you could have gotten was spent thinking about the following night. How were you going to handle it? Would he try to hold your hand or kiss you? What if he didn’t? What if he just wanted a friend? What if he wanted more than that? So many questions whirled about your brain, it made you nauseous.

You tossed and turned, buried your face deep into the pillows, kicked the blankets off only to pull them back on a minute later. You didn’t know what time it was when you finally fell asleep. What you did know, was just before darkness took over, the last thing you saw was Steve’s face.

* * *

Surprisingly, asking Y/N out wasn’t as painful as Steve thought it would be. Did he still miss Peggy? Hell yes. But it was no longer the all-consuming-swallow-you-whole kind of missing-the-love-of-your-life pain. That wound had healed, and the scab had begun to fade, leaving one hell of a scar. A scar that still hurt every now and again. A scar that started to throb the moment Y/N disappeared into her apartment building.

He argued with himself the entire way home, which wasn’t that far, but tonight, it sure as hell felt like it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he still lived in the apartment he and Peggy shared. Maybe it was the betrayal to her memory that made his heart clench. Maybe it was that and so much more.

Steve poured himself a glass of whiskey and was left gasping for air when he quickly emptied it. His chest and throat were burning painfully, yet, he poured himself another glass. And another. And one more, just for good measure. He kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket near the couch before stumbling into his bedroom.

The phone in his pocket buzzed just as he was about to pass out. It was awkward, but he managed to retrieve it without dropping it to the floor. Oh, he dropped it onto the bed, where it bounced a couple of times, but he saved it before it slid over the edge.

 _ **BUCK:** You home?  
_ _ **STEVE:** Yeah. I’m good, man. All good.  
_ _ **BUCK:** Sure you are. You need me to come over?  
_ _ **STEVE:** Just had a couple drinks. I’m fine.  
_ _ **BUCK:** You asked Y/N out, didn’t you?  
_ _ **STEVE:** Yuuuup  
_ _ **BUCK:** She said yes.  
_ _ **STEVE:** Yuuuup  
_ _ **BUCK:** Look, I know I give you a ton of shit about moving on, but man, if you’re not ready…  
_ _ **BUCK:** Steve?  
_ _ **STEVE:** I know.  
_ __ **BUCK:** Go to sleep, man. I’ll bring coffee.

* * *

You hadn’t seen or heard from Steve all day. There wasn’t any class either, not for any of the students; there never was on the first game of the season. It might sound superstitious to others, but to everyone at the school -the dean included, whatever worked to ensure a win.

“I don’t even know if I should go.”

If Natasha would have been there with you, she would have leveled you with an icy glare. “Girl, you’re going. We’re all going.”

Wearing faded and well-worn jeans, a pair of Chuck’s, the sweatshirt from the year you graduated, and your hair in a messy bun, you paced in front of the couch. “You coming to get me or am I meeting you there?”

“Last I heard, Steve was picking you up.” There was a brush of her hand over the mouthpiece so you wouldn’t go deaf when she called out to her husband. She was back a moment later. “Yeah, Buck said Steve’s gonna pick you up.”

Rolling your eyes, you pinched the bridge of your nose. It was hard to keep the sarcasm off your tongue, “Did _Steve_  happen to tell _Buck_  when he’d be here?”

Nat chuckled before answering, “Around 5.”

“Sure would’a been nice if he told me.”

“Be nice, Y/N.”

“Come on, Nat. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be pissed off.”

“If it were anyone other than Steve, you bet your ass I’d be pissed.”

“Fine. But if this… non-date goes anyway other than great, I’m comin’ for ya.”

There was another laugh from your friend. “I wish I could take that threat seriously. See you in a couple.”

Less than 20 minutes passed before your intercom buzzed. Even though you had an idea of who it was, you looked out your window to see Steve outside. You granted him access and about a minute later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it a few moments later to find Steve staring at his feet. His head shot up and there was crimson on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology stopped you short. “Um… ok?”

“I thought I said I’d stop by and…” his voice trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Steve, it’s ok.”

Smirking, Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? God, I’m such a fuck-up sometimes.”

“Shut up, no you’re not.” Laughing softly, you grabbed your keys and cell phone before stepping out.

* * *

Before you knew it, It was halftime and you were having a blast. Steve and Bucky were rooting for the home team as if their lives depended on it while you and Nat got caught up on life over the past decade. That’s not to say you weren’t interested in the game, you were just interested in hearing about your friend a little bit more.

At one point during the game, you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture of Steve. One of the players had gotten hit hard, and it was like all the air was sucked out of the stadium. Steve’s hands were clasped together in front of his mouth as everyone -except you- stared at the field.

As you looked at the picture, Nat caught you smirking and bumped your elbow. You rolled your eyes. “Shut up!” It was then that cheers erupted when the player was able to walk -more of a limp, really- off the field. He pushed his helmet into the air and disappeared on the sidelines.

You took the last swig of your beer and asked Nat if she wanted anymore. She and Bucky declined your offer, so you shimmied past them and stopped on the step next to Steve. It was either yell or stand close to him so he could hear you. You went with the latter.

“Want another beer?” _ABORT! ABORT!_  Steve smelled way too good to be standing that close. A shudder slithered up your spine and neck, prickling the hairs there.

“I’ll join you,” he basically breathed against your ear.

The stairs weren’t the widest, so he walked behind you, but it felt more like he was off to the side, and he placed his hand on the small of your back. How you managed not to melt under his touch was beyond your comprehension. Even at the bar, his hand didn’t fall away, and the weight of it was anything but uncomfortable.

He tried to pay for the drinks, but you shot him your _I mean business_  glare, which he chuckled at, but it got him to drop the subject. However, he did carry the drinks, looking over his shoulder as you followed him back down the stairs and to your seats. The sight of Natasha and Bucky having moved one seat over made you shake your head.

Steve’s breath was on your ear again, “You afraid I’ll bite?”

Your heart stuttered, pounding painfully in your chest before you turned. “Wh- what?”

He was wearing a dopey smile that pushed dimples deep into his cheeks. “You don’t wanna sit by me cuz you think I’ll bite.”

All you could do was nod, because if you opened your mouth again, you didn’t trust yourself not to say something stupid. Something along the lines of _what if I want you to bite me?_ Instead, you sat down, drank your beer, and tried really hard to pay attention to the last half of the game. You loved football, you really did, but something had shifted in the last 24 hours, and it had everything to do with the backwards hat wearing professor sitting next to you. Well, for the most part, he was sitting down. There were selfies to be taken and friends to catch up with, but every time he took his seat, his knee would brush yours or his hand would rest _just_ out of reach.

By the time the game ended -home team won, of course- your throat was so dry, you doubted anything would quench your thirst. Even so, on the way out, you got one more beer and had it emptied before Natasha could blink.

“You alright?” She inquired, concern etched in her features.

You were gasping for air as you tossed the bottle in the recycling. “Y- yeah, just th- thirsty.”

Her tone went from worried to playful, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with Steve, would it?”

“Shut up, Nat,” you hoped you didn’t sound as irritated as you felt.

She was humming under her breath and looped her arm in yours as you exited the stadium. Bucky and Steve were several yards behind you, chatting about God knows what, while Natasha continued to tease you about having a crush on Steve. Thankfully, the diner appeared before Nat started to get on your nerves.

Steve sat next to you, which you didn’t mind as much as yesterday, even going so far as to rest his arm on the back of your chair every once in awhile. You didn’t miss the wiggling of Nat’s eyebrows or the smirks Steve was receiving from Bucky, but it didn’t bother you like it normally would have. Steve was a nice guy, once you got past the arrogant-know-it-all-professor first impression, but the same could be -and has been- said about you.

One greasy cheeseburger, fries, and a small strawberry milkshake later, everyone was more than ready to head out; there were classes in the morning for Steve and you… well, you didn’t really _have_  anything to do. Maybe you’d hang out with Nat or stop by the classroom-

“Mind if I walk with you?” Steve’s question invaded your thoughts.

Hands shoved deep in your pockets, you shook your head and answered, “Not at all.”

The air felt thicker than earlier, but that could be because Steve was walking close enough his arm kept brushing against yours or because the pair of you were walking much slower than last night. It could have been any of those reasons and probably a hundred more.

“Thank you for asking me to the game, I had a really good time,” you hoped your voice wasn’t as shaky as it sounded in your head.

There was that dopey smile of his again. “Yeah? Me, too.”

“Are you planning on going to the away game next week?”

One shoulder bobbed up. “I want to, but I have to see how the essays turn out tomorrow.”

“I was, umm, thinking of stopping by tomorrow. Would that, uh, be ok?” What the hell was wrong with you? You were acting like you’d never been around a guy you liked before.

“I would like that, yeah,” his voice was much lighter than a moment ago.

It was as if your apartment building came out of nowhere. You shuffled your feet as Steve came to stand in front of you. Something Nat said popped into your head. _”If it turns out that it really **is**  a date… you break his heart, I’ll break your neck.”_ Looking up at Steve, you knew that a date is exactly what just happened.

You took an involuntary step back.”I uh, should go in.”

Steve grabbed the hand you had just yanked from your pocket, keys clenched tight. “Can I ask you something?”

“S- sure.” Your heart was hammering in your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I’m not… I mean, if there are any, I’m not misreading things, am I?”

“How do you mean, Steve?” _LIAR!_  You knew exactly what he meant, you just wanted to hear him say it.

A nervous chuckle fell from him, one that wrinkled his nose slightly. “I uh… I like you.”

You know that step back you took? Yeah, forget it. “I like you, too.”

His eyes went from stormy grey to deep blue in a matter of seconds. “So, if I were to ask you out on a date, what would you say?”

“Ask me and find out.”

Bottom lip pulled between his teeth, Steve stepped closer, properly invading your personal space. “Y/N, would you go out with me?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’d have to check my sched-”

Steve’s lips were on yours, cutting off your playful banter. Your eyes barely stayed open long enough to watch as his fluttered shut, fanning long, dark blonde eyelashes against his skin. It was when he pulled your bottom lip between his that you melted into him. His short beard felt softer than it looked as it brushed against your chin and you couldn’t fight the urge to rake your nails through it. With your arms around his neck, Steve pulled you into him, large hands placed between your shoulder blades and the small of your back, fisting the once plush sweatshirt you were wearing.

You shivered, but not because you were cold, not by any means; it was a different kind of shiver that wrapped around the base of your spine and shot up to your neck. While you savored being kissed so very thoroughly, you appreciated breathing just a little bit more.

Pulling back, you gasped at the cool autumn air. “I… I should go in.”

Steve brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, staring at them as if he were mesmerized. “You said that already.”

It took everything in you not to nip at his finger. “I mean it this time.”

All he did was hum. Whether it was in agreement or not, you couldn’t tell, until he nodded and his grip loosened considerably. His hands remained on your hips and yours had fallen to his elbows. “See you tomorrow, then?”

You pushed up and kissed him softly before answering, “Tomorrow.”

* * *

She sat on the bench and watched as students came and went. Some held hands with their significant others, others chatted away on their phone. But none of them paid her any attention, which is how she liked it. She didn’t even know who she was, not completely, that is. The less attention, the better.

So why come and sit in a college quad? She had no idea. All she knew was that she felt as if something was pulling at her, drawing her away from a hospital and people she didn’t recognize.

Only after the sun had set and the shouts from the stadium had died, did she stand. The breeze was almost bitter, forcing her to tighten the strap on her trenchcoat as she walked. No destination in mind, she strolled around the building, halting abruptly when she saw a couple kissing.

She had no idea why, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She just stood there, lurking in the shadows, watching people she didn’t know. She should have felt bad about the act of voyeurism, but all she felt was the white-hot sting of betrayal when they parted and his face was visible in the full moon.

A name was whispered, a name that felt right to say, yet awkward at the same time. “Steve.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was Saturday night and you were drunk; ruddy-cheeked, giggling like a little girl, flirting shamelessly with Steve, properly drunk. The game of charades had been Steve’s idea, the addition of drinking every time you lost a round had been Natasha’s. Needless to say, it didn’t take very long before the four of you had polished off two bottles of Cuervo.

With a hiccup, you sat on your knees and slapped your hands against your thighs. “Come on, Steve! We got this.”

For some reason, Steve had stripped out of his shirt and was wearing jeans and brown suspenders. The look wouldn’t have been complete without the red and brown striped tie. You don’t know _why_  he stayed like that, but you were too drunk to really care. Steve was half-naked and sporting tattoos you had no idea existed until tonight. Not that tattoos were a turn off, hell no. The score was tied, and if you got this one right, you and Steve would win. Steve shot you a wink before acting out the final charade.

“Television show, one word.” With your head cocked, you watched as Steve walked out of the apartment. You about held your breath as Nat turned on the timer for 30 seconds.With that amount of time to guess, it was no fucking wonder the four of you were blitzed. Steve strutted back in and his whole demeanor was different. He was wearing a smirk that made your belly flop painfully. Dark eyes settled on yours and he tipped his chin up as if to say…

Oh, you fucking knew this one! “HOW YOU DOIN’,” you shouted, jumping off the floor.

“Need the name of the show, babe,” Natasha admonished, her eyes on the timer as it dwindled down to 10 seconds.

You drug your hands through your hair as your mind raced. What was it? Come on, you _knew_  it! “FRIENDS!”

Steve clapped loudly before pushing his fist through the air, followed by a shout of, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You were jumping up and down excitedly, shrieking until Steve’s arms wrapped around your waist and he was kissing you. Nothing wild, just pecks on your mouth and jaw. Natasha was grumbling behind you, being the sore loser she had always been.

Once your feet were back on the ground, you turned to your friend. “Better luck next time, Nat.”

“You damn right there’s gonna be a next time. We’re gonna kick your coll… pos… ASSES!”

Bucky draped an arm over his wife’s shoulders, shooting his best friend a wink. “You tell ‘em, babe.”

“Shut up, Buchanan.”

You snorted when Nat shoved her elbow into Bucky’s ribs. “Nat, play nice.”

“He knew what he was getting into when he married me.” In an effort to make amends, Nat pushed up and kissed Bucky’s scruffy cheek.

Bucky brushed his nose against hers. “We should get home, it’s late and I got that case to prep for. You want to share a taxi with us, Y/N?”

Bottom lip between your teeth, you looked over your shoulder at Steve before answering, “Nah, I think I’ll stay for a bit, thanks.”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Nat called on her way out the door.

“That doesn’t leave much,” was your smart ass reply.

Even after Steve shut the door, he was laughing. “Fuck. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

“It’s been a long time for me, too.” Two empty bottles of Cuervo in hand, you strolled into the kitchen and began to rinse them out.

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“I know, but it gives me something to do to help since I didn’t bring any food.”

His hand was on your wrist, stopping you from continuing in your task. “I say we sit down and celebrate our victory.”

After drying your hands, Steve led you to the couch, where you both sat down Indian style, facing each other. You took a long pull from the almost full bottle left over from charades. You might have been properly drunk, but that didn’t mean the tequila didn’t burn a path down to your stomach.

“So… how do you want to celebrate our win, Steve?”

Steve took the bottle from your outstretched hand and took a longer pull than you had. “Honestly? I just wanted to sit down and… get to know you a bit. Does that sound lame?” His voice was raspy from the booze and nerves.

You relaxed into the cushion to your left. “I really like the sound of that.”

The dopey smile was back, and it was bigger than before. “Yeah? It’s not… weird?”

With a sigh, you pushed up to your knees, dropped your hands on his thighs, and in between kisses, told him, “It’s not weird at all.” Bottle in hand, you dropped back to your spot. “Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”

Steve’s eyes flashed cobalt when you drank from the bottle. “Why Stark Industries?”

You almost choked on the tequila. “Right outta the gate, huh? Ok… well… I uh, I guess you could say it’s because of family. Umm, you know his girl… I mean fiance, Pepper? Well, she uh, she’s my step-sister.”

He swore under his breath and took another long drink. “Goddamn Starks are fucking everywhere.”

With your brows furrowed, you cocked your head to the side and decided to ask him a question. “What do you got against the Starks?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes fell to the bottle in his hands as he worked hard to avoid your inquisitive stare.

“Don’t try and play dumb with me, Rogers. From the first time I said the name Stark, you’ve acted like they’re the devil incarnate or something.”

Steve was quiet for a while, mashing his molars together, picking at the label, and not once lifting his gaze. It was when he scraped a hand down his face that it hit you like a fucking freight train. You whispered her name, “Peggy.”

He sniffled loudly and took another drink, damn near draining half of it in one go. “Remember the aeronautics department, how they claimed to have built the fastest plane?”

“It could get you from New York to Asia in 5 hours,” your voice was a raspy whisper.

“She was on the inaugural flight, got her name drawn in that _stupid_  lottery. I begged her not to go, but it was a ‘once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,’ she said. That was the last time I saw her. The plane crashed an hour into the flight, smack in the middle of the Atlantic”

You screwed your eyes shut and dug your thumb into your temple. “My uh… my dad was on that flight. Said there was something important he needed to find in uh, in Germany.”

His hand was hot and heavy on your knee. “The spear?”

Swiping at a rogue tear with your thumb, you met his stormy gaze. “Yeah. It was uh, it was like his holy grail. We spent _years_  scouring every scrap of information we could find on it. But we always ended up empty-handed.”

“What happened?”

“I had a dream about Adolf as a kid, running around the house, playing and irritating his mother like all kids do. When I woke up, I told him about it and we both just sort of knew that that’s where it would be. I tried to talk him into letting me go, but he was so goddamn stubborn about going to Germany alone. He said that I was needed here, that there was more research to be done. He died the next week.” You were crying softly at this point, brushing away the tears with your knuckles, embarrassed at your behavior in front of someone you barely knew.

Steve untangled his legs, set the tequila on the small table, and, after you uncrossed your legs, pulled you into his side. Kisses were dropped onto your crown before he whispered, “So you went to Germany.”

His shoulder was cool against your tear-streaked face. “As soon as I could. You know everything after that.” Hoping you weren’t overstepping any boundaries, you draped your legs over his, sighing contentedly when his hand fell to your hip and squeezed gently.

Another kiss was pressed to your crown, followed by your forehead. With his fingers on the base of your neck, massaging and kneading, you tipped your head back to look at him. “I’ll do whatever I can to help authenticate it.”

You tried to keep from smiling but failed. “But you don’t believe it could have survived.”

Steve’s breath was hot on your lips as he brushed his nose along yours, “It’s important to you.”

With your hand on his face, nails scraping through his thick, ginger beard, you kissed him. It was soft and sweet and everything that a kiss should be. All it took was a throaty moan from Steve for the atmosphere to change. You were on Steve’s lap, knees digging into the couch and his hips. His long hands under your shirt, fingers trailing up and down your spine, sliding under the top of your jeans, pulling you into him, rocking your body against his. When he sucked on your pulse point, your back arched and you drove your hands through his hair, tugging on the short strands.

As his fingertips dug into the soft globes of your ass, his name fell from your lips in a breathy moan. Steve answered with a growl that sent goosebumps racing down the back of your neck and spine. You bent down and slanted your mouth over his, driving your tongue deep into his mouth, wrapping it around his tongue and sucking it into your mouth, tasting the tequila thick on his tongue. You could have stayed there forever, rocking your body against Steve’s, the thick line of his cock between your legs, his hands on your flesh, tongues dancing together, answering his moans with your own, but your phone started ringing. Not that you answered it right away, nope.

You let it ring a handful of times before answering breathlessly, “What?” Steve’s mouth moved along your jawline and neck, his beard sending a ticklish shiver through you.

It was Nat. “You ok, Y/N? You sound a bit winded,” laughter coated her words.

“Fuck you.” Her rich laugh was cut off when you disconnected the call and tossed your phone onto the chair.

Steve fell back against the cushion and started chuckling. “She’s something else, huh?”

You looked down at Steve; pupils blown, lips pink and swollen, tattoos adorning his naked chest, sides, and arms, and fuck, if he wasn’t the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. With a smirk, you ran a finger over the knot of the tie he still wore before wrapping it in your hand and tugging on it playfully. “If she thinks I’m going down without some sort of retaliation, she’s got another thing comin’.”

“What’d you have in mind?” His hands were on your hips and ass again, squeezing roughly.

You narrowed your eyes before answering, “You got shaving cream and toilet paper?”


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha’s car looked like a mummy by the time you and Steve got done with it. Shaving cream was smeared everywhere and shoved into every crack and crevice the toilet paper wouldn’t go into. You knew she was going to be pissed, but you really didn’t give a shit. Especially when Steve tangled his fingers in yours and pulled you away from the house, running and giggling like a child. Steve had just closed the front door when you got a good look at him. Shaving cream was in his hair and on the right side of his face. You couldn’t keep from laughing.

“What? What is it?” When you didn’t answer, just laughed harder and pointed, he took a peek in the bathroom. Clearly unamused with the situation, he ran his hand through his hair and took a menacing step toward you.

You choked on the laughter and shook your head. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow as he continued to approach. “How is it fair that I end up covered in shaving cream and you don’t have a speck on ya?”

You could have escaped easily by running out the door, but the surge of adrenaline mixed nicely with the alcohol. Plus, you wanted to play a little bit. You bit your bottom lip and side-stepped slowly, hands held out. “Not my fault you got carried away.”

“It was your idea.” He was closer now, you could smell the tequila on his breath.

Only the couch separated the two of you. With Steve at the front, you were behind it, hands still held up in defense. “Doesn’t mean you had to go along with it.”

“Like I’m going to turn down the chance to spend time with you!” He launched himself at the couch then. You turned to run away, but his arm was around your waist before you knew what was happening. You wriggled in his grip, screeching when he pushed the shaving cream into your hair, mashing it into the nape of your neck. Only then did he loosen his grip enough to turn you around.

Eyebrow arched, you glared up at him. “Happy now?”

He was almost breathless when he answered, “Not quite.”

Still feeling playful, you reached up, looking as if you were going to cup his face. He got a big surprise when you pushed the shaving cream from the side of his face to his nose and eyes. Steve barely closed his eyes in time, sputtering something about making you pay. You couldn’t hear it over the peals of laughter as you tore off to his bedroom.

Steve had you pinned to the bed, one hand held your arms above your head and his hips were smashed into yours. As the pair of you kissed, you wrapped your legs tightly around his slim waist, rutting against him. Steve’s other hand roamed everywhere and it didn’t feel like it was enough; your skin burned with the need to feel more of him… all of him. His legs were spread, knees digging into the bed as your bodies rocked together, grunting low in his throat, moaning your name sinfully between kisses. Needless to say , it took you by surprise when Steve’s hand stopped on the waistband of your jeans, just shy of unbuttoning them.

His forehead was on yours, hot breath blasting against your mouth as he panted. “I uh… we should stop.”

You licked your lips as you unhooked your ankles, slowly dropping your feet to the bed. “If th- that’s what you want.” Fuck, you hoped you didn’t sound as pitiful as you felt.

Steve gave you a soft kiss and pushed himself off of the bed., clearing his throat awkwardly as he shifted his cock so it wasn’t tenting his jeans. You could feel his eyes as you sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, trying not to feel ashamed as you readjusted your clothes.

He was sitting next to you before you could stand. “Hey, it’s not because I don’t want to, because believe you me, I want to.”

Your smile was tight when you answered, “I know.”

Steve put his thumb under your chin, preventing you from ducking your head. “Y/N, I just… I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“I get it, Steve, I do.”

Thick brows knitted together as Steve looked at you. “You can call me an asshole or think that I’m old-fashioned or something, but don’t you dare think that I don’t find you sexy as hell and that I don’t wanna make you mine… in every sense of that statement.”

Heat pooled between your legs, but you worked hard to ignore it. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Smirking lopsidedly, Steve brushed his lips against yours. “But I’m totally down for making out.” He swallowed your giggle as he pushed you back to the bed and covered your body with his.

* * *

Steve knocked on the door as you ran a towel through your hair. “Coffee’s gettin’ cold.” It was just after noon and you hadn’t rolled out of bed more than half an hour ago; hair and clothes crusty with dried shaving cream. Steve had let you shower first while he got coffee started.

“Almost done,” you answered, hearing him chuckle softly before his footsteps departed. All you had left to do was brush your teeth -thank goodness for an extra toothbrush under the sink- and a pass of Steve’s brush through your hair. You emerged wearing a borrowed t-shirt -that hung to your knees- and some shorts that you knew damn well didn’t belong to Steve.

He turned around when you thanked him for the clothes. His hair was sticking up in all different directions, even his beard had patches of dried shaving cream. Smirking, you accepted the cup he was holding out. “There any hot water left?”

“Is there any after _you_  shower?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Touche’. Looks like I should get used to taking cold showers with you around,” he kept his tone light and playful, kissing you before turning away and disappearing into the bathroom.

You had just sat down on the couch when your phone chimed; a text message from Natasha.

 __ **NAT** : YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD, YOU HEAR ME?  
 **Y:** Is everything ok?  
 **NAT:** Don’t fucking play coy with me, Y/N!  
 **Y:** I’m not sure what you mean.

The newly personalized ringtone began singing and you waited until the last minute to connect the call -which just so happened to coincide with Steve emerging from the bathroom- putting it on speaker.

“YOU FUCKING TEE-PEE’D MY CAR!” Despite the fact that there was an irate woman screeching, you had a hard time focusing on anything other than the half-naked professor as he strolled into his bedroom.

“I uh… I wish I could help you, Nat.” You wanted desperately to follow Steve, hell, he didn’t even fucking close the door, but you remained seated, craning your neck for even the smallest of peeks.

She pulled in a deep breath and you could hear Bucky in the background, “It’s alright, Nat. I can clean it up.”

“Hear that? My husband is cleaning up after you.”

You couldn’t keep from laughing. “Fucking chill out, Nat. It’s just toilet paper and shaving cream, Jesus”

Another deep breath was taken. And another. And another. “I know… just… shit, Y/N.”

“You getting crazy in your old age?”

Steve padded into the kitchen wearing low-slung jeans and a grey t-shirt, smirking as he said, “She’s gonna murder you one’a these days.”

“You still at Steve’s?” Nat’s tone changed in a heartbeat.

You moved quick to take her off speaker, almost dropping your phone. “Y- yeah. Thought it would uh… you know, be safer that way.”

Rich laughter coated her words, “But y’all came over here and tee-pee’d my car.”

“Look, _mom_ , I’m a grown ass woman that can do as I please.”

You were sure Steve could hear her laughing. “Fucking chill, Y/N.”

You never did have to wait long for Nat to turn your words against you. “Shut up.”  She was still laughing when you disconnected the call, tossing your phone onto the table in front of you, the table which you had just propped your feet onto the edge of.

Steve was sitting in the chair across from you, looking downright adorable with his damp hair and beard, feet bare, and a lap that you just wanted to climb into. “So… what d’ya wanna do today?”

* * *

A couple of hours later, you were wearing _actual_  clothes -jeans, Chucks, and the borrowed t-shirt. He was wearing a baby blue hat while you had thrown your hair into a messy bun. In one hand was the bag that contained what you believed to be the Spear of Destiny, and in the other was Steve’s. The walk to the college wasn’t far, but it felt like someone was following you. You kept looking over your shoulder, swearing that there was something… someone just outside of your peripheral vision.

Just as the two of you were about to climb the stairs, Steve stood in front of you. “You alright?”

It was hard not to smile up at him, but the hair raising on the back of your neck was difficult to ignore. “Y- yeah. I just… I dunno, Steve. It feels like someone was following us.”

“If someone is following us on a Sunday afternoon, they need help.” Steve shot you a wink, kissed the end of your nose, and tugged you up the stairs and into the college.

* * *

She followed him home that night, the man whose name she apparently knew. He must have meant something to her, something strong enough to break through the barrier that surrounded her memory. She should have called her doctors, told them there had been a breakthrough, but she knew exactly what they’d say.

_You need to come back, it’s important to your recovery._

Bullshit! What she really needed was to be here, where she felt like she belonged. She didn’t know why, couldn’t explain it if someone asked, but this place… this strange and unfamiliar place was her home. So she remained hidden, far enough away that it wasn’t suspicious to any passer-bys, yet close enough to see and hear people that came and left the apartment.

The first night, nothing really happened. It appeared that Steve was a homebody, appreciating the silence of a night in rather than the raucous sounds of a bar or club. She waited until midnight before heading out, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.

She was there again the next afternoon, just watching, determined to find out as much about him as she could, all without being seen or heard. Hours passed, and she was just about to give up, head back to the cheap motel for the night, when she saw her; the woman that had kissed Steve. She was damn pretty, no wonder Steve looked at her the way he did. Two more people arrived with several bottles of booze, and from then on, it was drinking and laughter.

Several hours later, the red-headed woman and her husband -she assumed they were married- departed, hailing a taxi after stumbling through the parking lot. She waited until the taxi turned the corner before creeping along the wall. She knew it was a risk, peeking in the window as she was, but it was like she couldn’t stop herself. She watched as they drank, as they talked, and then finally, as they kissed; her straddling his lap and his hands pawing at her.

She about screamed when a phone rang. The woman sitting on Steve answered it, immediately blushing at whatever the other person was saying. The conversation was short and she smirked wickedly after throwing the phone away.

She barely made it to her hiding spot before the door swung open and they emerged, laughing obnoxiously as they ran away. With her heart thundering, she approached the apartment and found the door wasn’t even closed completely. If she was going to figure out why she knew Steve, that might have been her only chance. Looking over her shoulder, she quickly entered.

It was like walking into a dream. No, more like a dream of a memory. Everything looked familiar, yet she recognized nothing. Not the couch Steve had been moments ago, nor the kitchen where a bowl of popcorn set. There were bookcases and pictures, all of which she _felt_  like she knew. It was all buried so fucking deep inside her brain, she just needed _something_  that she recognized. She must have been standing in there for too long, because just as she was about to enter the bedroom, she heard a familiar laugh.

She had just disappeared around the corner when they appeared, giggling like school children. It was when the lock clicked, that she blew out a ragged breath. That had been close! Deciding that she had had enough for one night, she rushed away from the building and down the street to the motel. She needed some time to try and put what few pieces she had together.

It was in the afternoon before they emerged from his apartment. She clenched her jaw when he locked the door behind him. Damn it! How was she supposed to find out anything? She threw on her shoes and grabbed the motel key before scurrying out the door.

She was following too close, she knew it, but it was like she couldn’t force herself to back off. She was sure she was going to be found out since Steve’s… friend kept looking over her shoulder. There was only one spot she could hide in once they arrived at the college, and since she wasn’t as close as she’d like, she could only hear part of the conversation.

“It feels like someone was following us.”

“If someone is following us on a Sunday afternoon, they need help.”

Risking a glance around the corner, she watched as he kissed her nose before disappearing into the college. Should she follow them? Immediately making up her mind, she pushed away from the wall and ascended the concrete steps.


	7. Chapter 7

You shook your head almost violently, protesting Steve’s suggestion. “No. Not a chance.”

“He’s the only one that can help.”

Pointing to the door, you felt like stomping your foot, but thought it too childish. “Nick Fury is an egotistical asshole!”

Steve scoffed loudly. “This coming from someone who works for Tony Stark.” Well, there was no point in arguing that. When you didn’t push the issue further, Steve squeezed your hand and opened the door to Fury’s office.

Nick was standing behind a table, bent at the waist, inspecting…. something. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Are you really that busy, Fury?” Steve’s tone suggested they knew each other outside of academia.

Nick chuckled deep in his chest before looking up. One chocolate eye sparkled with laughter for a moment, and then it landed on you. “Ahh hell.”

“Nice to see you again, Fury,” it took a lot of effort to not sound agitated.

“Wish I could say the same, Y/L/N. Even after a decade…” Nick let his voice trail off before shaking his head. “So, Steve, what can I do for you? And don’t tell me it involves-”

“Hate to burst your bubble there, Nick, but yeah, it involves me.” Heat blossomed in your chest and you had to stomp down the urge to reach across the table and give him a good shake.

“Well then, there’s nothing I can do for you. I’m sure you can find your own way out.” He ran the tip of his finger just under the strap of his eye patch as he turned his gaze back to whatever he was inspecting.

You were fine with leaving, just like you had been ten years ago when the bastard failed you for daring to disagree with him. In the middle of class. While the dean was present. But that wasn’t the point! “I don’t believe it, you’re still fucking pissed about it.”

“Relax, Y/N,” Steve breathed against your temple before kissing it. Steve was right, you needed to calm down, but the authentication of the spear meant more to you than fame and notoriety. It meant honoring your father. You sniffled as emotion washed through you, burning your eyes with un-shed tears.

With your purse on the table, you reached in and carefully withdrew the package, handing it over after a stern warning, “So help me, I’ll break your fucking neck.” You watched warily as he inspected the artifact.

After what felt like an eternity, Nick rubbed his chin and shook his head. “What makes you so sure this is what you think it is?”

The emotion that made your chest tight disappeared, replaced quickly with confusion. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I wanna hear why you think this is the Spear of Destiny. Prove to me that this is worth my time.”

You screwed your eyes shut and groaned loudly. “I didn’t realize I needed to prepare a fucking speech to convince you, Nick.”

With a dark brow arched, Nick pointed at you. “That’s Doctor Fury.”

Out of nowhere, Steve slapped his hand on the table and yelled, “Enough!”

Ignoring the demand, you matched Nick’s menacing stare. “It hasn’t been Doctor Fury for a fucking decade, _Nick_.”

Steve stared hard at you. “What in the hell is going on?”

“Nick’s just being his charming self, as fucking usual. Don’t worry your pretty, bald head, Nick. I’ll take the Spear of Destiny elsewhere.” You snatched the spear away and spun on your heel, more than ready to storm out of the room.

You hadn’t taken more than a handful of steps, when Nick grunted your name, “Just… wait.”

You didn’t even turn around to face him. “I haven’t got all day, Nick. You want to help?”

It wasn’t hard to tell that it pained Nick to say, “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Hand in hand with Steve, you walked back to his apartment.  It didn’t take him long to ask, “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

You blew out a long breath before answering, “It was senior year, and Fury was rambling on and on and _on_  about carbon dating and how it’s helped time stamp hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of artifacts. He _then_  went on to tell the class what his favorite artifact was.”

“Let me guess, the tools that were found in Ethiopia.” It was almost as if Steve had heard this story before.

“He said they were over two _million_  years old, Steve. I mean… that’s… fuck, that’s not even possible!”

“So you said something to him about it.”

You looked up at him and smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah, I couldn’t _not_  say something.”

“How bad did it get?”

“Weeeeeeell… let’s uh… let’s just say that the dean was sitting in that day and Nick ended up giving me a big ol’ F.”

Steve couldn’t stop from chuckling. “There’s gotta be more to the story than that.”

You nervously rubbed the back of your neck before continuing, “We both met with the dean, separately and together. The dean said that if I apologized and Nick retracted the failing grade, he would forget the situation ever happened. But… but for some reason, I wouldn’t let it go. See, I don’t believe the world is that old to begin with, so how could an artifact be older? It just wasn’t possible. So… so I kept pushing… and so did Nick.”

When you didn’t continue, Steve squeezed your hand and dropped his voice, “Then what?”

You tried swallowing the lump in your throat. “The grade was retracted and I was moved to another class, and Nick… well… his tenure went under review with the board.” The next part was going to be even harder to say, so you clenched your jaw and didn’t say anything for a while. Silence stretched between the pair of you for over two blocks until finally, you told Steve the real reason Nick Fury was pissed at you.

“They took away his doctorate; stripped away everything he worked so hard to become. Because of me.”

Steve stopped walking, tugging on your hand when you wouldn’t look at him. “Hey, look at me, Y/N.” He hooked a finger under your jaw and forced you to look up. “That was ten years ago. You gotta let it go.”

You rolled your eyes and sniffled loudly. “I’ll let it go when Nick does.”

Wrinkles formed at the edges of his eyes when he narrowed them slightly. “Promise?”

“I promise, Steve.” He kissed you sweetly before draping an arm over your shoulders and continuing down the sidewalk. You were just about to turn into the parking lot when your phone rang, it was your sister.

You quickly connected the call. “Hey, you. Been a while, what’s up?”

“I called your office, but uh, Darcy, I think her name is, said you were back at your old college. What’s up with that?” Great, she was using her _I’m your older sister and I’m being nosy_  voice.

“Yeah, uh… turns out I might’a found something when I was in Germany.”

You could almost hear her roll her eyes. “I don’t even know how we’re related.”

“There are days I wonder that myself. So… I know you didn’t call just to check in on me.”

There were papers being shuffled around in the background and it set your teeth on edge. “I have a series of shareholder meetings in Japan. You’re free to watch Ellie, right?”

You dropped your head back and groaned. You loved your sister, there were just some things -ok, so a lot of things- that you didn’t _like_  about her. The assumption that you never had anything going on, was just the tip of the iceberg. “How long are you going to be in Japan?”

“A week. Maybe more. That’s cool, right?”

“Yeah, totally. You know I love spending time with Ellie.”

Her tone was immediately lighter, “You’re the best. She’ll be landing at six, American Airlines.”

“WHAT? She’s… I… what?”

Your sister scoffed and in your head, you could see the exact look she was wearing. “What? Like you were going to say no.”

Through gritted teeth, you ground out, “So help me-”

“Whatever, Y/N. Just be there to pick her up.”  She hung up before you could say anything.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you muttered not so quietly as you checked the time on your phone.

Steve had been patiently standing back, waiting for the call to be over with so he didn’t interrupt anything. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I guess, if you count my sister being a bitch. Think you could give me a ride to the airport?” You asked while batting your eyelashes and pushing up to your toes.

With hands on your lower back, pulling you tight into his chest, he was smirking and chewing on his bottom lip. “I think that can be arranged.”

* * *

Three or four hours later and Ellie was in the spare bedroom, putting away her clothes. You had just finished cleaning up after a fast food dinner when the comforting weight of Steve was at your back, arms around your waist.

With his chin on your shoulder, he said, “I should get back.”

You turned and kissed his cheek, nuzzling your hose into his beard. “Do you have to?”

“I have class tomorrow until 11. After that, what do you say the three of us go to the beach and have a picnic?”

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his shoulders. “You’re cool with having a 7 year old hanging around?”

His shoulder bobbed under your touch. “I love kids.”

Sighing in contentment, you scratched absentmindedly at the back of his neck. “There has to be _something_  wrong with you.”

“Guess you’ll have to keep me around to find out what.” His eyes fluttered closed when you brushed your nose against his.

You were just about to kiss him when Ellie’s voice made you jump. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

Steve dropped a kiss to your forehead before you turned to your niece. “We’ll go to the store in the morning, ok?”

Ellie sat at one of the bar stools, smiling wide. “And books?”

“All the books your pretty little heart desires, El.” You were behind her and working your fingers against the spot only you could find that would send her into a fit of giggles.

Steve watched as Ellie collapsed to the floor with you next to her, laughing in a playfully maniacal manner, telling her how you were going to tickle her until she couldn’t breathe, and even then you wouldn’t stop. It was only when Ellie began pleading with you, fat tears rolling down ruddy cheeks and hands on yours, that you stopped. Even you were breathless and giggling from the activity. You fell onto your back when Ellie jumped up, pouncing on you like a cat, doing her best to tickle you. Problem was, she took after you in the fact that you weren’t ticklish. That didn’t stop you from going along with it though. You begged for her to stop, wriggling beneath her as she had done with you.

Ellie collapsed on you, giggling and panting. “I missed you, Y/N.”

Still lying on the floor, you hugged your niece tight and kissed her sweat-dampened hair. “I missed you, too, bug.”

After slapping her playfully on the butt, she jumped off and, with the outstretched hand of Steve, you stood. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, huh? Looks like we got a busy day tomorrow.”

As she skipped away, you turned to Steve. “Where were we?”

His chest vibrated as he chuckled, dipping his head to slant his mouth over yours. He tasted salty and sweet at the same time, and it only made you want to kiss him more. Steve’s hands were in your hair on under your shirt when Ellie called out, “I’m ready!”

“Be right there, honey,” your voice was thick with want and it was difficult to let loose your grip on Steve.

“Pick you up around 11:30?” His voice wasn’t any better than yours.

“We’ll be waiting.” With a wink, Steve walked out and shut the door behind him.

You were in Ellie’s room a moment later. She had scooted over and was holding a book. “What are we reading tonight, bug?”

She waited until you were lying next to her before showing you. “When mom said you were going to watch me, I couldn’t resist. You always do the best voices.”

“Yeah, I do,” you joked as you opened the book. Snuggling deeper into the pillow, you cleared your throat,metaphorically blowing the dust off your British accent, “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”


	8. Chapter 8

Opening the trunk of your car and surveying the amount of bags it now held, you silently thanked Tony for the generous salary. “I don’t know, bug, I think you might have overdone it this time.”

She reached into the trunk and grabbed two very large and heavy bags full of books. “It’s your fault.”

You scoffed loudly, following the lead of your 7 year old niece before leading the way to your door. “How is _any_ of this my fault?”

“All the books my pretty little heart desires, remember, Y/N?” After dropping the bags in her room, the pair of you went back out to the car. There really weren’t a lot of bags, but your trunk was pretty small.

“Remind me never to say that again,” you said with a playful chuckle.  It took another trip to the trunk and back before it was emptied, the last bag to be brought in was yours and Ellie’s new swimsuit, children’s sunscreen, and a pair of sunglasses almost as big as her head. But she said she _had_  to have them. Who were you to say no?

You dropped onto the couch next to your niece. “I’m really glad you’re here, bug.”

She wrinkled her nose at the nickname. “Me, too.”

“You ready for the beach?” You poked her side, smirking when she tried to arch away.

Her giggles were soft, little exhalations of hot air out her nose with a grunt behind it. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been to the beach in a long time.”

Ellie was quiet for a minute, looking lost in her own thoughts. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, bug.”

“Is Steve your boyfriend?”

You laughed softly before kissing the top of her head. “He sure is.”

She smiled the kind of smile that made her eyes sparkle. “I like him, he’s nice.”

“I like him, too, kid. Now, go and pack up your suit and a change of clothes.”

“Can I bring a book?”

Narrowing your eyes, you sighed heavily. “I don’t know about that.”

Ellie was on your lap and pretending to tickle you. “Please, Y/N? Oh pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Alright, alright, I give! You can bring _one_  book.” With a shout of triumph, Ellie jumped off your lap and, after digging her stuff out of the canvas bag, ran into her room to pack.

You were laughing as you stood when there was a knock on the door. Knowing it was Steve, you shouted for him that it was ok to enter. Steve was wearing a big smile as he poked his head in, prompting you to wave him in.

After kissing him sweetly on the cheek, you padded into the kitchen and asked, “How was class?”

He followed you, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, watching as you started to pull stuff out to put in the cooler. “Middle of the road. Nothing really exciting since it was a half day.” You could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “There any books left at the store?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Probably have to buy a bookcase or something.”

“I’m not even going to ask if she can read those all in a week.”

“Good choice, because I’ll tell you right now, I’ll be making another trip to the bookstore before Saturday.”

Ellie emerged with a bag over her shoulder, wide-brimmed hat on her head, and newly-purchased sunglasses on her nose. “I’m ready for my close-up,” she dramatically said, hand perched on a hip.

Lunch items stored in the cooler, you gave Ellie a wink. “Well then, let’s get you to the stage, Miss Ellie. Come, to the car!” You handed the cooler to Steve, picked up your beach bag, and strode out the door with Ellie’s arm looped in yours. Steve was laughing as he followed the two of you, closing the door behind him.

* * *

It was windy at the beach, nothing major, just enough to add a bite of chill to the warm lake water. The three of you played around in the water, pretending Ellie was a shark that was hungry only for knees. Steve would reach in and grab her around the waist, tickling her until she couldn’t breathe while you swam away, giving thanks to your rescuer. But the moment Ellie was put back in the water, she was diving under, swimming towards you. Ellie’s grumbling stomach was the only thing that drove the three of you from the water. You chased her to the towels and chairs, screaming about the monster in the lake that wouldn’t stop growling.

After sandwiches, grapes, and water, Steve dried off and threw on his jeans, a white t-shirt, and sunglasses before settling into one of the chairs. When Ellie got dried off and dressed, you stood with hands on your hips. “So I’m swimming all alone?”

Without warning, Ellie sat on Steve’s lap and leaned back. Steve gave her stomach several pats before answering, “Looks like. Go on, enjoy some time to yourself.”

Steve couldn’t help but watch as you disappeared into the lake, swam out to the buoys, and floated on your back; relishing in the cool water and warm sun. He must have sighed because Ellie rested her hand on his and asked, “Are you ok?”

“All good, kid, all good. What about you? You having a good time?” He patted her stomach again, looking down at the sun-kissed cheeks of your niece.

“All good, Steve.”

Not that she could see through his sunglasses, but Steve winked at Ellie. “There’s this diner in town, serves the best milkshakes. Think Y/N would mind getting some dessert before going back?”

Ellie was grinning wide as she answered, “About as sure as I am that Adolf Hitler’s nephew served in the US Navy during World War II.”

Steve arched a brow and shoved the glasses up into his hair. “That’s not run-of-the-mill knowledge, kid.”

Happy with herself, Ellie looked out at the lake. “I’m not your run-of-the-mill 7 year old.”

“Obviously not,” he muttered with a chuckle. Seeing you swim back, Steve stood and before Ellie could take off running, he grabbed her and put her on his shoulders.

“Have a nice swim?” Ellie asked, her voice giddy at just the thought of asking if going out for milkshakes was alright.

You knew that tone anywhere. “What’s got you so happy?”

She was kicking her legs, careful not to kick Steve. “I hear there’s a diner that makes the best milkshakes.”

“You heard that, huh? I wonder who could have told you,” you joked, eyeing Steve as you dried your hair.

Steve looked at you, playing offended. “I didn’t tell her.”

“You did so, Steve,” she was giggling now, but that could have had something to do with Steve’s fingers up on her sides. “Y/N, help!”

You finished drying off as best as you could, pulled on your shorts and shirt, stepped into your Chuck’s, and began packing up the cooler. “I think you can handle yourself, bug.” Her peals of laughter gave way to shrill shrieks. In no time, Steve was on his knees and Ellie was lying on the blanket, her back arching and fat tears rolled into her hair as Steve continued to tickle her.

Steve leaned back and blew out a heavy breath, wiping his arm along his forehead. “Tickling is such hard work. I think I need a milkshake.”

With wild eyes, Ellie sat up, face flushed and sand in her hair. “Does that mean we can go?”

You were trying so hard not to smile, but Ellie made it damn impossible. “Help clean up and yes, we can go for milkshakes.” Never had you seen her move so fast to help.

* * *

She waited until the car pulled out of the parking lot and turned the corner before jiggling the doorknob. Whether it was luck or someone on high watching out for her, she didn’t know, but the door wasn’t locked. Quickly, and holding her breath, she slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. As the sun was bright, she let her eyes adjust before moving around the apartment.

It was nice, a little on the small side, but that was just a preference of hers, apparently. Y/N must not have been staying there long, judging by the fact there were several boxes that remained taped closed. Some labeled **_KITCHEN_** ], others labeled **_BATHROOM_**  and **_BEDROOM_**. She didn’t mess with those, someone would notice that, and she wasn’t ready to come out of the shadows. Not until she was **_100%_** sure.

Several bags were overflowing with a mixture of books, subjects ranging from The Babysitter’s Club to  astrophysics. Moving on, she noticed that there weren’t any photographs or plants, nothing that made the apartment feel homely; another clue Y/N hadn’t been there long.

She moved into the first bedroom, finding books and children’s clothes scattered on the floor. On the unmade bed sat several stuffed animals; one yellow bear with a smiling sun on its belly, and a unicorn that looked as if it had seen better days.

The master bedroom was next and she couldn’t stop the knot in her belly from growing larger. She knew she shouldn’t be here, snooping into the lives of people she didn’t know, but it was like she couldn’t stop herself. If being here meant finding out who she was and why seeing Y/N with Steve; a man whose name was the only thing she knew about him, made her want to cry in agony, then she was going to do whatever it took.

She sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed and picked up a delicate-stranded necklace; the chain was gold and hanging off it were a set of wedding bands, before something at her feet caught her attention. It was a black leather briefcase, and embroidered on the front was a name. A name that made her whole body flush and sweat appear on her forehead; **_STARK_**. She pushed off the bed, staggering as her stomach rolled. Her mind reeled as it was assaulted with images from before she awoke in the hospital. Whenever she tried to focus on one, it gave way to another. It went on like that until she burst out of the apartment and vomited in the bushes.

The sun had set and the air had cooled, feeling heavenly on her clammy skin. Just as she stood, the car carrying Steve, Y/N, and a child turned into the parking lot. Muttering a curse, she yanked the door closed and jogged away, disappearing around the corner.

* * *

Ellie was yawning loudly as she exited the car. Even though it was dark, she was still wearing the sunglasses; you had a feeling she’d sleep in them if you’d let her. You called out to your niece as she shuffled into the apartment, “Go hop in the shower, bug, you got sand everywhere.” Ellie mumbled something neither of you could understand. You grabbed the two beach bags since Steve already had the cooler in his arms, exchanging soft and sweet kisses before slamming the trunk closed.

Once inside, you dropped the damp bags into the sink. Turning to Steve, your heart stuttered in your chest. “What is it?”

Steve looked as if he had seen a ghost. He gripped the cooler tight enough that his knuckles went white and it wasn’t until you snapped your fingers that he looked at you, eyes wide and darting around the room. “I uh… I don’t… um…,” his voice was shaking, on the brink of breaking.

“Steve?” You turned and took in your apartment. Everything seemed to be fine. Facing him, you grabbed the cooler and set it on the floor.

He ran a hand over his face and up into his hair as he pulled in deep breath after deep breath. “I… I’m s- sorry, but… I need to go.” You didn’t have a chance to try and talk him down from… whatever the hell had just happened. He kissed your forehead,  ran out the door, and jumped into the car faster than you could blink. Rubber screamed on asphalt as the car peeled out of the parking lot.

Blowing out a heavy breath, you shut the door, threw the deadbolt, and had just bent down to grab the cooler to empty it when something caught your eye, something that had been on the nightstand by your bed. You picked up the necklace that housed your parent’s wedding bands, a necklace that you would have worn had you not gone swimming. Unease rolled through you, tightening your belly, making it feel as if the walls were closing in on you.

Swallowing hard, you pocketed the necklace and looked at your apartment with a critical eye as you walked through it. Nothing stood out of place; not in the living room, the kitchen, or even Ellie’s bedroom. You knocked on the bathroom door to check on Ellie, reminding her to brush her teeth when she was done. You checked your bedroom next and again, found nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that didn’t belong was a floral scent. The same scent that had welcomed you home. You had blown it off, thinking it had to do with Ellie’s new shampoo, but when you thought about it, her shampoo was strawberry scented.

You pulled the phone from your pocket and dialed your best friend. “Nat, I think someone was in my apartment.”


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky poured another glass of whiskey for Steve before reacting to the claim that had been made. “Peggy’s dead, Steve.”

Steve’s hand shook as he brought the cup to his lips, pausing for a moment to scoff before tossing his head back. His eyes snapped shut as the liquor blazed a trail down his chest and deep into his belly. “You know as well as I do that they never found a body,” he rasped, tapping the glass on the table.

“It’s not possible, man, she couldn’t have survived. Come on.”

“I’m telling you, Buck, it was her,” he tried, but couldn’t keep his voice from shaking.

Whiskey splashed into the empty cup. “Because of what, some damn perfume? You realize how crazy that sounds, right?”

Steve ran his tongue over his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before answering, “That perfume… it… Buck, it’s not just a some regular perfume. I… I had it specially made for her.”

Not being one for making his friend drink alone, Bucky grabbed a glass for himself, quickly filling it. “Ok then, let’s say she’s alive, that somehow she miraculously survived the crash. Besides the perfume in Y/N’s apartment, what other proof do you have?”

“Nothing, that’s it.” He had to admit that he was starting to feel foolish for how he reacted, especially running out on Y/N. After swallowing the whiskey, he spun the blass between his fingers, staring at the liquid amber beads as they swirled around.

Bucky clapped his friend’s shoulder. “So, you gonna dwell on it or keep moving on with Y/N?”

At the mention of Y/N, Steve smirked. “Keep moving forward.”

More whiskey was poured and Bucky tapped their glasses together. “She makes you happy, Steve. We can all see it.”

“She’s pretty damn awesome, isn’t she?”

Happy with the change in Steve’s voice, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at his best friend. “Nat said her niece is in town?”

Steve drank slower, actually savoring the sting of whiskey on his tongue. “Yeah, Ellie. She’s 7 and goddamn, that girl is smart.”

Bucky chuckled, thickening his whiskey-coated voice. “You always did love kids.”

“Yeah,” was Steve’s only reply. He pushed the glass away and stood tall, pulling Bucky into a tight hug. “Thanks, Buck.”

* * *

With shaking hands, you closed Ellie’s door quietly. The time in the lake had worn her out; she was asleep before her head hit the pillow, but you still crept down the hall as if she were a fussy newborn. Newly-filled glass of wine in hand, you dropped onto the couch next to Nat.

She was facing you, legs tucked beneath her, and her head tilted. “It’s not possible, Peggy being alive.”

“Then why would Steve bolt like that? Why would he tell Bucky-”

Nat’s hand was on your thigh, squeezing a little rougher than normal. “Sweetheart, Peggy is dead. Now, I don’t know whose perfume you guys are smelling or how your necklace ended up on the floor, but I’m telling you, it’s not Peggy.”

After a healthy pull of wine, you shook your head. “What… what if… could it be a ghost?” You knew how ridiculous you sounded, but goddamn it, there had to be an explanation.

Sighing heavily, Nat set her glass on the table, did the same with yours, and turned you to look at her. “If ghosts were real and one decided to visit you, don’t you think it would be someone like your mom or dad? Come on, Y/N, don’t let your mind start running wild.”

You choked out a laugh and hugged your friend. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming over and talking me down. I just… I got scared. When Steve left like that… I thought… fuck, I don’t know what I thought.”

Nat pulled back to look at you. “Well stop it, because I’m telling you that Steve isn’t going anywhere.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “You think?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Honey, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking.”

“You gonna tell me how he looks at me?”

“Like you’re the ocean and he wants to drown.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. Your cheeks flushed and as you went to pick up the glass of wine, there was a knock on the door. Nat was off the couch and pulling open the door before you could blink.

“Can I come in?” Steve’s voice drove you off the couch.

Wearing a soft smile, Nat stood off to the side and grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. She gave you a wink and waved before disappearing, closing the door behind her.

Steve was the first to say anything. “I’m really sorry for running off like that.”

Wringing your hands behind your back, you shook your head. “It’s ok.” And it really was. You understood why he had run off, because if you were in his shoes, you don’t think you would have reacted any differently.

He took one step closer, two, then three, until he was close enough that you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “No, it’s not. I was just… I was scared and I-,” You pushed up to your toes and slanted your mouth over his, effectively swallowing his words.

Steve moaned low in his throat as you sucked on his bottom lip and then his whiskey-coated tongue. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, he couldn’t refrain from grabbing your ass and pulling you off the floor. With your legs tight around his waist, Steve maneuvered around the bags of books, down the hall, and into your room where he kicked the door shut.

You untangled your legs from his waist, groaning when he lowered you slowly to the floor, pushing every inch of his chest against yours. Your hands were under his shirt, on his waist, nails scratching the flushed skin. You looked up and found his pupils blown, already full lips were kiss-swollen and parted. And then you remembered something he said about not wanting to rush things.

It was as if he read your mind. “I want this. I want you, Y/N,” his voice was thick and rough, wrecked with need. Bottom lip captured between your teeth, you pushed up his shirt. Your heart pounded harder and faster with every inch of him that was revealed. You may have seen him without a shirt on while he was swimming, but the way his chest was heaving as air tore in and out of him, fuck, it was almost too much to bear.

While he finished removing his shirt and dropped it to the floor, your hands feel to the top of his jeans. You smirked when you realized he was wearing button-fly jeans. Not that you minded a zipper, but there was something more fun about slowly undoing each button one by one. With every push of a button through denim, Steve grunted. They started soft, at the back of his throat, but by the time there was one button left, his hands were on your wrists and cobalt blue eyes flashed hungrily.

Arching your brow, you popped the last button, flexing your wrists under his touch. He didn’t let go, not until you slid your hands inside his boxer briefs and started to slide them down his hips and thighs. His cock sprang free, swaying and bobbing gently. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, thick and long, slightly curved at the end, the head was blush and seeping. Before you knew what you were doing, you’d dropped to your knees and wrapped your hand around the base of his cock; ginger hairs tickling you. You pressed your tongue to the underside of his cock, breathing him in as you licked him, feeling the swell of the vein on your tongue until you reached the tip. Your eyes fluttered closed as the bittersweet drops of pre-cum landed on your tongue.

Steve’s mouth fell open and his head lolled back, hips jerking when you wrapped your lips around him, twirling your tongue around and around, flicking it back and forth through the slit. His hands tangled in your hair, tighter and tighter with every bob of your head, every inch of him that you sucked deep into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. Sinful moans were falling from his lips as you took him deeper, swallowing around him, his ginger curls tickling your nose. You would have been content to swallow his cum, feel the heat of it slide down your throat, but he had other things on his mind.

You were off your knees and Steve was undressing you, kicking out of his shoes, socks, boxers, and jeans at the same time. First your shirt, then your shorts, hit the floor.  It was followed quickly by your bra, which you deftly unsnapped, his hands warm on your naked breasts, nipples peaked and pressed into his palms. He looked at you with hooded lids, a breathy curse falling from his lips before kissing you. Holding you firm to his chest, he pulled you off the floor and laid you on the bed, draping his body over yours. Even through your pants, his cock was hot, pulsing; you rolled your hips up, swallowing his moan and sucking on his tongue.

“Jesus, doll,” his voice was shattered. He marked you with his beard and teeth, biting and sucking dark marks until you hissed. Sitting back on his knees, Steve’s fingers dragged along your body; twisting, pinching, pulling, goosebumps jumping to life under his touch. Reaching your pants, he undid the button and zipper, hooked his fingers inside, and pulled them over your hips, down your thighs -with your assistance, of course, all while staring at you with lust-blown pupils and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

You grew self-conscious under his gaze, blushing and averting your eyes, hands twitching to cover yourself. Steve shook his head, saying, “You’re beautiful, sweetheart, so fuckin’ beautiful.” His voice was more a ragged whisper than anything, and a strange sense of self-acceptance washed through you, hushing the small voices of doubt in your mind.

He was kissing you; sucking your bottom lip between his, nipping at the plump flesh before sweeping his tongue over it, running his fingers through your hair, pushing your legs farther apart with his thighs. Your heart was hammering, pushing blood faster through your veins, thundering in your ears like a waterfall. The base of Steve’s cock was pressed against your engorged clit as you rutted against one another. Your pussy tightened painfully, desperately seeking out his cock, your opaque slick seeping out, staining the blankets below.

With your nails at the small of his back, you whined, “Need you to fuck me, Professor.”

Steve’s moan was ragged, making his shoulders shudder. He licked his lips hungrily, watching as you reached over and pulled out a condom from the nightstand. Once the foil package was torn open and discarded in the small waste basket, he pushed up and sat back on his knees, his cock twitching and throbbing as you rolled the condom on. You wrapped your hand around his cock, running your fingernails along the rubber-coated thick vein, relishing in the ebb and flow of blood beneath your touch. He was so thick and hard, like a layer of skin atop a rock. It was when you stroked him, squeezing his cock-head between your thumb and forefinger, that he growled.

Steve was on you in a flash, kissing you hungrily and a hand on the base of his cock, sweeping the swollen head through your slick folds. He bit your lower lip as he pushed in slowly, his hips shaking as he fought for control. All he wanted to do, all you wanted him to do, was fill you so completely you couldn’t breathe. But he took his time, and goddamn it, you almost came from the lazy drag of his twitching cock.

Hot air blasted on your chest as Steve looked between your bodies and watched his cock disappear, until all he could see was his ginger curls tangled with yours. Your breath caught in your throat as he stretched you, not stopping until his pelvis bit into yours. Neither of you moved for a moment, you just lay there, senses in hyperdrive. Every twitch made one of you gasp or moan, every brush of skin made goosebumps flare to life. And just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Steve pulled back, just as slow as when he filled you, stopping only when his cock-head remained.

With a guttural sound, he snapped his hips, driving the air from your lungs with a grunt and sent an echo of wet skin through the room. He used his thighs to open your legs wider, subsequently, doing the same thing to your pussy, and giving him a new angle to make you cry out. And cry out you did. Your back arched and air was tearing in and out of your throat. Steve’s mouth was on your shoulder, biting, kissing, sucking, raggedly whispering how, “fucking amazing you feel. So fucking tight and wet, doll.” And then an sinful moan of your name would fall from his lips.

Steve slid a hand under your arched back and hooked it on your right shoulder, digging his fingers deep into the skin and muscles with every snap of his hips. You were meeting his thrusts, nails cutting into his shoulder blades, lower back, and ass as the coil tightened and the pleasurable white-hot burn began to spread out from your belly. His hips started to stutter and both your already ragged breathing came sharper, echoing the wet, sucking sounds of sex.

With his forehead on your shoulder and his bowing with every thrust, Steve slid a hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, and pressed his two middle fingers against your clit. Static exploded in your head and black dots swarmed in your eyes as you came. You held your breath as you pulsed around him, knowing the lack of oxygen would only fuel the intensity of the orgasm. When you couldn’t take it any longer, and Steve’s mantra of, “fuck, baby girl,” was harsh on your neck, you released the air held hostage, his name at the end was a shattered whisper.

He laid there, between your shaking legs, propped up on his elbows, and kissed you languidly as you drug your fingers over the wide span of his shoulders. It was only when he had gone soft that Steve pulled out, each of you hissing in a mixture of arousal and over-sensitive skin. Steve disappeared into the bathroom, coming back a few moments later, finding you exactly where he had left you.

Sighing in contentment, you pushed off the bed and past him, giggling when he slapped your ass. You shot him a wink over your shoulder before closing the door behind you. It didn’t take long to get cleaned up, just a damp washcloth between your legs and a brush through your hair. You pulled on your robe out of habit and emerged to find him wearing boxers and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to go…,” his voice trailed off as crimson colored his cheeks.

You stood between his legs and ran your fingers through his sex-mussed hair. “I’m not gonna tell you to go, Professor.”

His eyes fluttered closed as you bent down to kiss him. “Good, because I didn’t really want to leave.”

“Steve,” you breathed against his lips. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Eyebrow arched, Steve sat back and found he couldn’t stop himself from tugging on sash of your robe. “What did you have in mind?”

“Drinks and dinner. There’s this cool jazz club on the edge of town, got a great house band.”

Your robe was open and Steve was pressing kisses against your belly. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow night?” you rasped.

His hands were under your robe, squeezing the globes of your ass. He circled your pert nipple with his  nose before resting his mouth against it. “I’d like that,” was all he said before wrapping his lips around it and flicking his tongue over the pebbled skin.

Your mouth fell back and you tugged at the hair on his crown. All coherent thought was lost the moment Steve slide one hand from your ass to between your legs. He moaned against your breast as he cupped your sex, thick fingers dragging through your damp folds. Your head lolled back and if Steve’s arm wasn’t around your waist, you would have fallen the moment one, then two digits pressed into your cunt.

This was going to be a long night, not that you were complaining.

* * *

She didn’t leave the apartments, not even when Steve ran out, driving off like a NASCAR driver; tires squealing and burned rubber filling the air. Nor did she leave when the short red-headed woman drove up, screeching to a stop, and jogging inside. Whatever had sent Steve running off must have been bad enough that Y/N felt it necessary to summon her friend. She scoured through her thoughts, trying to remember if she messed up, left some sort of sign that she had broken in. But she had been careful, she was sure of it. She should leave, go back to her motel and get some sleep, but she couldn’t move. She had to remember who she was and why she knew Steve, and if it meant breaking into Y/N’s apartment and stalking them, then so be it.

It wasn’t an hour later when Steve came back, head hung and shoulders bowed, looking very much like a child. She watched him disappear into the apartment, making sure to hide when Y/N’s friend departed. Holding her breath, she stood outside the door, pressed her ear to it and strained to hear. It wasn’t any use, their voices were too muffled. And then, there was silence.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she paced back and forth, counting in her head to 500. Holding her breath, she tried the knob. Her heart pounded when it opened, just like it had earlier. The apartment was dark now, no sun to lend her rays; she had to move around the room on memory.

Y/N’s bedroom door was closed, but it didn’t stop her from hearing everything they were doing. She may have lost her memory, but she knew what sex sounded like. Especially, when it was sex with Steve. It was in the way his words would catch in his throat, followed by the softest of grunts.

Her vision swam and she had to brace her hands against the wall to keep from falling. It was then, listening to Steve and the sensual sounds of sex, that she remembered everything.


	10. Chapter 10

Your [**_dress_**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ericdress.com%2Fproduct%2FEricdress-Rockabilly-Style-A-Line-Sleeveless-Casual-Dress-11404951.html%3Fc%3DUSD%26gclid%3DCjwKEAiAmJvBBRDKpP724LigwngSJAAYRJXB63KG8NnAtee5ONPjAsLbS8QYYOfm7_bp5x28yLfeZhoCT8Pw_wcB%232325149%26tb_from%3Dpaid_adwords_shopping%26adword_mt%3D%26adword_ct%3D96466225115%26adword_kw%3D%26adword_pos%3D1o4%26adword_pl%3D%26adword_net%3Ds%26adword_tar%3D%26adw_id%3D7162179455_351226955_25731522755_pla-198361274178&t=NWQ5Mzg1YzU1NTE4YTg0MTAxNDZhYTMyY2NkYmEwNjYzNmVlZDczZSxSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1) was classic 1940’s fashion, simple, yet elegant. So when you tried on the [**_shoes_**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.overstock.com%2FClothing-Shoes%2FJournee-Collection-Womens-WENDY-09-Patent-Mary-Jane-Pumps%2F6063222%2Fproduct.html&t=YmY5MGZiZTQyNWM3NGNlZDdlNzRjNWJlMGFhYjdlMjA4N2RiYTc1ZixSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1) and looked at your reflection, you knew this was exactly how you wanted to look for your date. You hadn’t been to the _**[club](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fimages.indiegogo.com%2Ffile_attachments%2F892940%2Ffiles%2F20140930073909-RIVOLI.jpg%3F1412087949&t=NmZmNDJjOTBiMjQyMTZhNmM4YjIyMjJiNGQ2ZmFjMGY4ZmI0N2NjYyxSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1)**_ since your college days, but when you walked in, you were happy to find it exactly the same. The rich red upholstery and golden yellow arched ceiling matched the deep mahogany decor.

Walking in with Steve’s hand on your lower back, you breathed in the intoxicating mix of smells; cigar smoke, aged whiskey, antique velvet, and the oil used to clean brass instruments. You loved every single one of them apart, but together, they brought a flood of memories from when you went out with Nat, dancing with older guys and drinking expensive whiskey.

Steve’s voice was as warm as his smile, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Just remembering some of the good old days.”

Steve squeezed your shoulder after you sat down in the chair he pulled out. “You ever gonna tell me about them?”

“Depends on how drunk you get me,” you answered, winking across the small table.

He answered with a wink of his own. “A bottle of your oldest wine, please.” The waitress smiled warmly and walked across the dance floor where three couples were making their way around, spinning in lazy circles.  

You watched as they swayed, moving in time to the drums, guitar, and the rich, yet raspy tone of the singer’s voice. Steve’s hand was on yours, thumb sweeping back and forth on your wrist. You had forgotten how much you loved being here, it almost felt like being transported back to a simpler time.

Steve’s hand was on yours while you talked and drank. It was comforting, reassuring; it felt like home, cheesy as it might sound to someone else. All that mattered was how you felt, how Steve felt, and judging by the way he laced his fingers with yours, how he looked at you like you were the only person in the room… yeah, you were sure he felt the same as you.

You came out of the bathroom and found your table empty. For a moment, your chest tightened at the sight, but then you saw his dark blue jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You had just taken your seat when a raspy voice pulled your attention to the stage.

“Good evening. As some of you know, I’m Phil Coulson, the owner of The Blue Note. I just want to say thank you everyone for coming out tonight, you all look beautiful. We’re trying something new tonight, giving you, our gorgeous patrons the chance to come up and show off your talents.” You joined in on the applause, still scouring the club for your date.

“First up, I’d like you to give a warm welcome to Steve Rogers-” your eyes flew to the stage, watching as Steve smiled shyly, trumpet in hand, “and he’s going to grace us with his version of a Louis Armstrong classic.”

Steve ran a hand under his nose nervously as the drums and piano began. He took a breath, lifted the trumpet to his lips, and began to play **_[What a Wonderful World](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DSAjHXTqfW1Y&t=YTIyMThhYzc5ZGUxMDgxYzZjMzI0YzUwZmUzMjQ5ZjQxYWNmN2NhNyxSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1)._**  

You stared in awe, listening intently to every note Steve played. Everyone dancing on the floor faded away and it was just you and Steve, nothing else had ever felt so right, and in that moment you knew that there was no turning back. Not when you were falling in love with him.

Getting an idea, you couldn’t help but smile wide. When you know Steve wasn’t looking, you crossed the dance floor and approached Phil, asking if there was a spot left. Turned out, there was only one, and it was all yours. “All’s I need is a name and a song, doll.”

The last notes were playing as you got back to the table. You couldn’t help but clap along with the audience, even going so far as to give a wolfish whistle which, even from 20 feet away, you could see crimson color his cheeks.

Steve was still blushing when he came back, even a little more so after you kissed him. “I didn’t know you could play.”

His lips quirked into a half-smirk. “To be honest, I haven’t played in years.”

“What made you want to?”

Sitting down, Steve grabbed your hand, and answered you, “The lyrics spoke to me.” It was your turn to blush under the intensity of his gaze.

A handful of people sang or played instruments, driving more people to the dance floor. You knew your name was coming up and you couldn’t fight the butterflies in your belly any longer. Squeezing his hand and winking, you stood and pulled him from the table. Steve didn’t pull back or try to get out of dancing, but his brows were knitted closer together than before.

Steve’s hand was heavy on your lower back, the other holding yours loosely. Winking, you placed your hand on the back of his shoulder and started swaying to the heavy bass that backed the drummer. You got so lost in his azure eyes, that you jumped when someone put their hand on your shoulder.

Phil’s eyes went wide. “You ok there, sweetheart?”

Embarrassed, you chuckled. “Y- yeah, just surprised me.”

“You good? Cuz it’s your turn.”

“All ready, Mr. Coulson.” You wrapped your hand around his forearm, ignoring Steve’s questions.

Phil clapped as he approached the microphone, thanking the performer as he walked off stage. You quickly and quietly spoke with the band. The opening would be completely acoustic, and at your signal, the guitar and drums would kick in.

You thanked them just as Phil said your name, applauding as he stepped away from center stage. After swallowing hard, you moved the microphone so it was the right height. Steve wasn’t hard to find since he was still on the dance floor, rooted to the very spot you had left him. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, praying to God your voice wouldn’t crack.

 __[ **Knock one, two, three**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DudvnLLjcAoA&t=ZmIwNGRlYzI5ZjI4YWIzY2ZmYmYwYTg1MGIxNmVhMDZkYjY3MDIzNixSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1) on the wall  
That will be our secret call   
You’ll find me under your spell  
Secret safe, I won’t tell  
Knock one, two  
One, two  
One, two, three

At your signal, the guitar strummed to life, followed quickly by the drums, and that’s when you opened your eyes.

 _I see you move across the room_  
I can’t keep still, you’re my thrill  
Can’t you see, you belong to me

Steve was standing there, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open, shocked. He had his secret about playing the trumpet, you had yours about singing. It had been years since you sang in front of others, but the rush of adrenaline boosted your confidence. You started swaying your hips to the music.  
  
 _You have me trapped, I’m happy with that_  
I’ll keep you warm, when others are gone  
Look in my eyes, I’m your surprise  
Knock one, two, three on the wall  
That will be our secret call  
You’ll find me under your spell  
Secret safe, I won’t tell  
Knock one, two,  
One, two  
One, two, three

The piano went off into a solo, backed by the guitar and steel brush on the drums. You took this opportunity to descend the stairs -assisted by Phil- and came to a stop in front of Steve. Once crystal clear eyes flashed sapphire and it sent a shiver down your spine. Bottom lip between your teeth, you started to circle him, running a hand along his body as you went.

 _I won’t tell a soul, oh no one will know_  
I’ll keep all aside, keep away from the light  
Just call and I’ll appear, I’ll always be near  
Knock one, two, three on the wall  
That will be our secret call  
You’ll find me under your spell  
Secret safe, I won’t tell  
Knock one, two  
One, two  
One, two, three

It was time for another instrument solo, only this time, you hummed along, stepping in time with the drumbeat,finally taking your place back on the stage until the music came to a stop. There was a moment of silence and you were scared they didn’t like it.

But then Phil was by your side and kissing your cheek. “What a way to end the night, huh?”

There was still applause as you left the stage and joined Steve on the dance floor. “You can sing.”

You felt your face flush. “Yeah, guess I can.”

The band started to play some slow-paced song that you couldn’t place at the moment because Steve had an arm wrapped around your waist and began to sway to the beat. You draped your arms over his shoulders, dragging your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Steve was humming along, and that’s when you recognized [**_it_**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D4zAThXFOy2c&t=Y2VkY2QzNTg1ZDY1NmZlMWQwNDAyNDk4M2ExNDhhMGJiMmY2NjFkYixSSldtRDVRaA%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&m=1).

 _You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey_  
You’re as sweet as strawberry wine  
You’re as warm as a glass of brandy  
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

Steve pressed his forehead to yours and blew out a shuddering breath. His hands were painfully tight on your hips as he kissed you sweetly, rubbing his nose against yours when he was done.

“I love you,” the words tumbled out before you even had a chance to stop them. Not that you would have, but it was so unexpected that it made the breath hitch in your throat nonetheless.

He smiled warmly and ran the back of his knuckles along your jaw, stopping when he reached your chin. He opened his mouth, but someone was behind you, someone that changed Steve’s whole demeanor. His whole body went rigid and his face went white.

You whirled around to see who it was, but you didn’t recognize her, that didn’t mean you didn’t know her name. Only one person could make Steve react that way. The floor shifted under foot and your stomach lurched.

Her smile was warm yet cautious. “Hello Steve.”

Steve’s voice was unrecognizable, “Peggy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She tucked some hair behind her ear as if it were a nervous habit.

It was too warm and the room felt too small, your head was spinning and it felt like you were going to be sick. You couldn’t stay here, not even if it was just to disappear into the bathroom. You staggered away from Steve and managed to make it to the table to grab your purse.

Steve’s hand was on your elbow and… Peggy was just… standing there, looking so goddamn innocent and apologetic. “Wait, Y/N, don’t leave.”

Your heart was in your throat, beating frantically, threatening to choke you if you tried to speak. All you could do was shake your head and pull out of his grip. You were out the door, in the back of a cab, and somehow gave directions when it started raining.


	11. Chapter 11

It was quickly shaping up to be the best night of Steve’s life. Everything had been perfect, even the last minute decision to play the trumpet on stage. And then she went and surprised him right back, and that was it, he knew he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself. Was it all happening a little fast? Sure, but who could put a time frame on love?

When they were dancing, she surprised him further by saying,. “I love you.” He had never felt such happiness. That should have been a red flag because everything changed when he went to answer.

Peggy appeared, looking just as beautiful as the day she died. She was smiling and wringing her hands together. He felt the blood drain from his face and his body go rigid. “Hello, Steve.”

It had to be some kind of dream. “Peggy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He didn’t blame Y/N for staggering away; God knows he would have, but he was too shocked to say or do anything. The weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, pushing him towards Y/N. He caught up quickly and held her elbow loosely. “Wait, Y/N, don’t leave.” The look on her face was like a punch to the gut. With tear-filled eyes, she shook her head and pulled away. All Steve could do was watch her run out.

Peggy was by his side, staring at him with those big eyes. “I should probably explain.”

He turned to her, taking in every detail about her face as if she were an impostor and he was trying to find the one flaw that would prove him right. But he couldn’t find anything. She was exactly as he remembered, down to the way her lips quirked when she was extremely nervous.

“I can’t do this, Peg,” he muttered before running out, hoping Y/N would still be outside. What he didn’t know was that his previously thought dead fiance followed him. He stood in the rain, hands running through his hair, looking in every direction for the red dress that fit her like a glove.

“Steve, it’s pouring,” Peggy yelled from under the protective awning.

Mind going a thousand miles a minute, he shot his hand out when a blur of yellow turned the corner. He was diving into the back of the barely-stopped cab while Peggy called after him.

It felt like it took forever to get there, and with every call and text that went unanswered, the anxiety in Steve’s chest grew larger, threatening to consume him whole. Finally, the driver pulled into the parking lot. Steve wasn’t sure how much money he tossed into the front seat; if it wasn’t enough, he didn’t give the driver a chance to say anything.

Heart pounding against his ribs like a jack-hammer, Steve knocked on the door after trying the knob.

* * *

Ignoring the glances from the concerned driver, you watched the rain as it was pushed sideways along the window. All you wanted to do was go home, to get away from the situation. Ellie was spending the night with Nat and Bucky, so you didn’t have to worry about explaining anything straight away. Not that you could. You had no fucking clue what was happening.

Having paid the driver and dashing through the sheets of rain, you fumbled with your keys, dropping them twice in the process of unlocking the door. Once inside, the first thing you did was lock the door. First the chain, then the deadbolt, leaving the brass knob for last. Forehead against the door and panting heavily was when you started crying.

You kicked off your shoes and struggled with the cotton blend dress as it was clinging to your shuddering frame; finally landing on the floor with a thick, wet _slap_. Shivering and crying, you padded into the bathroom and removed your bra and panties before stepping into the shower and turning the water on as hot as it would go.

You stood under the stream of water until it ran tepid, swirls of mascara and lipstick at your feet. You washed your face quickly, turned off the water, and dried off before stepping out. When you exited the bathroom, you heard Steve pounding on your door, calling your name loudly. You couldn’t face him, not now. Going into your room, you tugged on a pair of shorts and long shirt. You fully intended on crawling into bed and burrowing under the blankets, but it was obvious Steve wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So you took a deep breath, ran your fingers through your damp hair, and made your way to the door. Hand on the brass knob, you waited until there was a moment of no pounding or yelling.

“Go away, Steve,” your throat ached from sobbing in the shower.

There was thunk on the door as his forehead came to a rest. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Talking shouldn’t have been so damn difficult. “For what? The love of your life is back. You should be happy.”

The locked knob twisted slightly against your palm. “Can I please come in?”

You ground your teeth and even though he couldn’t see, you shook your head. You tried to answer, but your throat was too goddamn thick.

“Please… just… just let me in,” he begged, his voice shaking.

“No,” was all you managed to say.

He sighed heavily before trying again. “Y/N… open the door a little bit then, just… I need to know that you’re ok and I can’t do that if the door is closed.”

You must have been standing there a little too long, because Steve’s harsh voice broke through your thoughts and the rain, “Please.”

First the lock on the knob, then the deadbolt; you left the chain latched, almost as if it were the last line of defense. You opened the door as far as the chain would allow and looked into his bloodshot eyes. “See, I’m fine.” You most certainly were not fine. Your face was splotchy, your eyes were puffy, and your nose was stuffed.

His brows furrowed in slight relief and he couldn’t help but smile. “You told me you loved me and left before I could say anything.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Turns out your dead fiance wasn’t so dead,” it was hard to keep the venom from your voice.

“Trust me, I’m as shocked as you.”

“Are you?”

He looked so confused and kind of hurt. “Of course I am. Y/N… wait, you… you don’t think I lied about it, do you?”

Your voice was thick with mixed emotions, “What else am I supposed to think, Steve? You tell me that the love of your life is dead, that she died in the same crash as my father, and then… on the night that I say I love you, she shows up, out of the blue. Put yourself in my shoes and tell me how you would feel!”

He didn’t answer right away, just stood there, staring at you with piercing blue eyes. With a quivering chin, you shook your head. “Goodbye, Steve.” You closed the door before he could do something stupid like shove his hand in or tell you that he loved you, too.

Back against the door, you slid down, landing on your tailbone and wrapping your arms around your knees. A fresh wave of tears hit and you didn’t have the strength to hold them in, not caring if Steve heard you or not.

* * *

Steve rested his forehead against the door and blew out a ragged breath as tears pricked his eyes. He could hear her crying through the door and it physically hurt that there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to go in there so badly, but there was the matter of Peggy that needed to be dealt with.

Since the rain had let up, Steve walked home, his mind a jumbled mess of everything and nothing at the same time. The last person he didn’t want to, but needed to see, was leaning next to his door.

Peggy pushed away from the wall, looking concerned at his appearance. “Steve, are you alright? I was beginning to grow worried.”

Without saying a word, he unlocked the door, leaving it open behind him after he went inside. He strode to his room and changed into some dry clothes. When he emerged, Peggy was standing in the living room, looking at the overloaded bookshelf.

Crossing his arms, Steve leaned against the wall, watching as she shuffled on her feet, her head tilted so she could read the titles. It was when she faced him that he spoke, “What do you want?”

Peggy’s eyes went wide for a second before she gathered herself. “I want my life back.”

Steve scoffed loudly. “Little late for that, Peg. You were declared legally dead 18 months ago.”

“Is it really too late? I mean, I’m obviously not dead. All I’d have to do is get a lawyer and go to the courts, have the ruling overturned, and then-”

“Then what?” Steve shouted. “ We get married?”

Peggy began to cross the room, stopping when Steve shook his head. “Would that be so bad?”

“Peg… I… I’ve moved on.”

She looked at the floor, but not before her eyes flashed with pain. “I noticed. Y/N seems like a wonderful woman.”

“You damn right she is.”

“I know you must have a thousand questions and I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just… can we sit?” She set her purse on the table before shrugging out of her jacket.

Steve watched every move she made with a critical eye. If she wasn’t Peggy, he wanted to know it as soon as possible. “You’ll tell me everything?”

Out of habit, Peggy smirked in a way that made it look like she was winking. “Everything I can remember, which might be a bit jumbled. I didn’t have my memory for most of the time.”

He stared at her hard, grinding his jaw as his mind raced. He pushed away from the wall and sat down in the chair farthest away from her, as if being near her would bring back all of his buried feelings. “Alright, let’s have it.”

* * *

Your head was pounding as if you had spent the night drinking. Every little noise made your brain pulse as if it were threatening to explode through your forehead. Even the smallest of taps as you texted Nat made you want to bury your head under a pillow.

 _NAT: How did last night go? I bet it was awesome._  
Y: You’re not even close.  
NAT: What’s wrong?  
Y: You want the short version or the long version?  
NAT: I don’t care which version you give me, just TELL ME!  
Y: Remember when you said Peggy was dead and that I had nothing to worry about?   
NAT: She IS dead, Y/N.  
Y: No… she’s really not. She’s alive and she showed up at the club right after I told Steve that I loved him.  
NAT: YOU’RE FUCKING KIDDING!  
NAT: Hey… talk to me.  
NAT: Y/N?   
Y: What is there to say?  
NAT: Where’s Steve?  
Y: I told him to go away. I couldn’t talk to him…  
NAT: Oh honey, I’m sorry. What do you need?  
Y: Can you watch Ellie for another day? I’ll come and pick her up tomorrow.   
NAT: Of course. She’s already having a blast with Buck.  
Y: I’ll call you, ok?  
NAT: Promise?  
Y: Pinkie

You placed the phone on the stand and curled around a pillow, burying your face in it and shouting in frustration. The trip back to your old college wasn’t supposed to go like this. All you needed to do was see if the lance was authentic or not; that was it. You weren’t supposed to get involved with someone, let alone fall in love.

Rolling to your back, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stared at the ceiling fan that was circling lazily. It wasn’t that Steve had baggage that made you feel like running away, it was the [i]kind[i] of baggage he had. A dead fiance was one thing, but to have that fiance come back from the dead… no, that wasn’t something you wanted to deal with. You wanted to pack up your things, grab Ellie, and go… anywhere but here; Tahiti maybe. You snorted in laughter because the mere thought of it was ridiculous. You weren’t the type to tuck tail and run, but Steve had gotten under your skin in a way no one before him had. You had started to think you could have a life with him; a life that included a house with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a couple of dogs running around.

Scraping your hands over your face, you groaned low and heavy. You sat up and pushed off the bed, deciding that for now, coffee was the most important thing. Everything else could wait.

* * *

Steve pushed off the chair and drove a hand through his hair. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“I know how daft it sounds.”

“It sounds fucking made up, is what it sounds like.” Icy blue eyes drilled deep into hers.

Peggy swallowed hard as she stood. “Tell me, Steve, what would I possibly have to gain by faking my own death?”

He was gripping the back of the chair tight enough to hear the wood creak. “Money,” that one word tasted sour on his tongue.

Peggy’s chin shook and her voice was thick, “You really think that money was more important to me than you ever were?”

Screwing his eyes closed, Steve shook his head. “No, of course I don’t think that, Peg.”

“I understand how difficult this all is, I really do, but… I couldn’t just leave. I… I love you, Steve.” She was crying now, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, smearing her mascara.

Steve let go of the chair as all the anger and confusion melted away. He crossed the room and held her as she cried, breathing in the perfume and shampoo mix that had once made his heart skip a beat. He pulled back and looked into her bloodshot eyes. “I cannot possibly understand what you’re going through right now, Peg, but… I mourned you for for over a year and then… then I moved on. I’ll always love you, but I’m in love with someone else.”

Peggy choked on a sob, her shoulders shaking under Steve’s touch. “Wh- where do I g- go from here?”

“You said you wanted your life back. You can have it back, I just won’t be a part of it, not in the way you want me to be.”

She sniffled and nodded. “You’ll help me?”

Steve pressed a sweet kiss to Peggy’s crown as he hugged her. “Of course I will.”


	12. Chapter 12

You stayed in the apartment, doors locked, curtains drawn, ignoring every text and phone call from Steve. Not that you didn’t read them or delete the voice mails without listening; you weren’t a bitch, you just needed time. Time to think things through.

Steve was sure that it was Peggy, but that didn’t change the way he felt about you. He wanted, needed… begged to see you, to tell you face to face, but you just couldn’t look at him. Not yet. While you believed that Steve believed Peggy had come back from the dead, you needed to be 100% sure before coming to a concrete decision. So you called Clint, your private investigator buddy, and cashed in several favors.

His warm smile came into view on the laptop screen, giving a wave before signing, “Hey, sweetie, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Clint had been stationed in Afghanistan for over 2 years when their unit came upon several IEDs. Clint lost 90% of his hearing in both ears. While he could hear for the most part with the help of hearing aids, he preferred sign language.

“I need a favor. You got some free time?”

“For you? Absolutely. What are we talking about?”

You blinked rapidly at the assault of unexpected tears. “A friend’s fiance came back from the dead.”

If Clint noticed that you started to cry, he didn’t say anything about it. He was damn cool like that. “And you don’t think it’s her?”

“I just want to be 100%.”

“Send me everything you’ve got. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” You blew him a kiss before he signed off, the Skype screen fading to black.

With that taken care of, you pushed off the couch and got another cup of coffee, slowly adding the caramel flavored creamer until it was just right. Knowing that the only person you could get information about Peggy from was Steve, you didn’t ignore your phone the next time he called.

* * *

Steve stood out of the way as you closed the door behind him, not too close, just close enough that you could smell the soap he used earlier that day. Looking into his stormy eyes wasn’t easy, but you managed to do so. When you did, he gave a half-smile.

“I’m glad you answered the phone.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored you, I’m sorry.”

He was shaking his head and involuntarily taking a step closer. “Don’t apologize. I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.”

You blew out a shaky breath and squeezed the back of your neck. “Some situation, huh?”

“Not the most ideal one, no.” There he went, taking another step.

Fighting the sudden prick of tears, you screwed your eyes shut, hands clenched at your sides. “Steve…”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours, hand on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. “You told me you loved me and left before I could answer.”

“How would you have answered?”

“Open your eyes and tell me again,” his breath was hot on your face.

You opened your eyes and your breath hitched in your throat. Steve’s eyes were like sapphires, dark and beautiful, like an endless ocean that you could spend all day looking at. “I love you,” you breathed out, your heart thundering in your chest.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You choked on an unexpected sob and pushed up, kissing him rougher than you intended. Steve slanted his mouth over yours, moaning when you nipped at his bottom lip, then massaged the offended area with your tongue. You swallowed his moan, answering with your own as you grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed, your other hand on his back, fisting the thin t-shirt he was wearing.

Steve, with one hand in your hair and the other at the small of your back, started walking towards your room; stopping momentarily to press you into the wall and kiss you hungrily. You were rocking against his thigh, digging your nails into the back of his neck and shoulder, moaning obscenely into his mouth, not caring how needy or desperate you might have sounded. With his cock twitching against your belly, Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you off the ground, carrying you to your room as you latched your legs around his waist. He kicked the door closed and the pair of you were falling onto your bed before it hit home.

* * *

You were half-lying on Steve, cheek pressed against his heart, nails dragging through the short hairs on his belly, and legs tangled with his. He was humming contentedly, carding his fingers through your hair, and kissing your forehead when you asked him a question.

“Will you tell me about Peggy?”

Steve stilled for half a heartbeat before continuing to drag his fingers through your hair. His heart was pounding against your cheek, so you pushed up and kissed him sweetly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you kept your voice soft, as if he were a frightened animal ready to scamper away.

He smiled shyly, running his thumb along your jaw. “I want to, it’s just… it’s hard.” Pulling in a deep, shuddering breath, Steve told you everything about Peggy. From her favorite color to what music she’d listen to when she soaked in the tub. From how many moles Steve would trace over one her shoulder blade to how old they both were when they slept together for the first time. He left nothing out and it hurt to hear every scrap of information about the great love of Steve’s life, but it’s what you wanted, it’s what you asked for. So you stayed there and listened intently, swiping away the rogue tears that broke past his lashes.

And just when you thought he was done, he said, “We were going to start a family when she came back.”

Your eyes clamped shut and you struggled to keep the moan-sob in your throat. “I’m so sorry.”

Steve chuffed through his nose before continuing, “At least two kids; a girl first, then a boy, that’s what she wanted.”

  


You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed him. Nothing much, just a firm press of your lips against his, your nails dragging through his beard, watching as his eyes fluttered closed. It didn’t matter that you both loved each other, you felt as if you had to say what was on the tip of your tongue.

“You can still have that life with her, Steve,” your throat was so thick with emotion, you almost choked.

Steve’s brows furrowed as he grabbed your face. “Doll, I don’t want that life with her. I want that life with you.” He kissed you before you could protest, not that you would.

You were breathless, panting heavily, when the kiss ended. “I have a confession to make.”

He quirked his brow and cleared his throat. “Do tell.”

“I uh… I have this friend, this… private detective friend. I asked him to look into Peggy, to make sure she’s… _her_.”

He smiled and tucked some hair behind your ear; not exactly the reaction you thought he would have. “We’re gonna need it. Peggy asked me to help her prove to the courts that she is in fact alive. What information does your friend need?”

* * *

Steve was skyping with Clint, surprising the both of you by knowing more than the basic sign language, and you were sipping freshly brewed coffee when your phone rang; it wasn’t a number you recognized.

He had a heavy accent, so heavy that it slurred his words. Then again, it could be what he was saying that made the ground shift under your feet. “I’m sorry, ma’am, there was nothing we could do.”


	13. Chapter 13

“What do you want?”

Peggy had never heard him sound so frustrated. She quickly gathered herself before answering, “I want my life back.”

Steve scoffed loudly. “Little late for that, Peg. You were declared legally dead 18 months ago.”

“Is it really too late? I mean, I’m obviously not dead. All I’d have to do is get a lawyer and go to the courts, have the ruling overturned, and then-”

She couldn’t help but cringe when Steve shouted, “Then what? We get married?”

Peggy began to cross the room, stopping when Steve shook his head. “Would that be so bad?”

“Peg… I… I’ve moved on.”

She looked at the floor, hoping to hide the pain that flashed in her eyes. “I noticed. Y/N seems like a wonderful woman.”

“You damn right she is.”

“I know you must have a thousand questions and I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just… can we sit?” She set her purse on the table before shrugging out of her jacket.

“You’ll tell me everything?”

Out of habit, Peggy smirked in a way that made it look like she was winking. “Everything I can remember, which might be a bit jumbled. I didn’t have my memory for most of the time.”

He stared at her hard, grinding his jaw before pushing away from the wall to sit down in the chair across the room. “Alright, let’s have it.”

Wringing her hands together, Peggy told him everything from the moment she boarded the plane; down to what the stewardesses were wearing. “It was a relatively normal flight, the only difference being the speed we were moving at. It felt like… like there was a string on the inside, latched to my belly button, and it kept tugging me back. Others said they felt the same way, but I couldn’t shake the headache that came with it. So I went into the lavatory, sat with my head between my knees, trying to keep a steady head. I wasn’t in there very long, a handful of minutes… and then…,” Peggy’s words got caught in her throat, choking her as tears pricked her eyes.

Brows knitted together, Steve leaned forward in his seat. “Take your time, Peg.”

She sniffled, gnawing on her bottom lip until the knot in her throat subsided. “The plane dropped  and the captain came on, said there was some turbulence, not to panic. But then it happened several more times. I went to get out, get back to my seat, but on the next drop, people started screaming. The plane didn’t stop, it just kept falling. And then… then there was nothing.”

Grabbing a tissue from the table, she wiped away the mascara-stained tears. “A crab boat found me floating on a piece of wreckage and they brought me in. I woke up in hospital six months later. The doctors said that being in the rear of the plane as I was, it was the safest spot for me; that’s why I survived the crash. I had no memory of who I was or where I came from; I just knew I didn’t belong there, that my home was here. But they wouldn’t let me leave straight away, that there was swelling on my brain and I needed surgery, along with rehab for the atrophied muscles.“

Steve pushed off the chair and drove a hand through his hair. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“I know how daft it sounds.”

“It sounds fucking made up, is what it sounds like.”

Peggy swallowed hard under Steve’s icy gaze before standing. “Tell me, Steve, what would I possibly have to gain by faking my own death?”

He was gripping the back of the chair tight enough to hear the wood creak. “Money,” that one word was like a punch to the gut.

Peggy’s chin shook and her voice was thick, “You really think that money was more important to me than you ever were?”

Screwing his eyes closed, Steve shook his head. “No, of course I don’t think that, Peg.”

“I understand how difficult this all is, I really do, but… I couldn’t just leave. I… I love you, Steve.” She was crying now, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, smearing her mascara, but she didn’t care how she looked.

Steve let go of the chair and crossed the room, holding her as she cried. “I cannot possibly understand what you’re going through right now, Peg, but… I mourned you for for over a year and then… then I moved on. I’ll always love you, but I’m in love with someone else.”

Peggy choked on a sob, her shoulders shaking under Steve’s touch. “Wh- where do I g- go from here?”

“You said you wanted your life back. You can have it back, I just won’t be a part of it, not in the way you want me to be.”

She sniffled and nodded. “You’ll help me?”

Steve pressed a sweet kiss to Peggy’s crown as he hugged her. “Of course I will.”

* * *

After Peggy left, Steve sat down with a weary sigh. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and leaned back, going over everything one, two, three more times; it was downright exhausting. Steve wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days, but he needed to do something before he could do that. He needed to call Y/N and explain.

He called, left voice mails, and texted; no answer. He didn’t blame her for going silent, he just wished she would send him a text, let him know she was ok. He paced and laid on the couch, tried reading a magazine or four, but the apartment was beginning to feel too small, so he brushed his teeth, shoved on some shoes, and grabbed his jacket.

The diner was quiet, any quieter and he might have fallen asleep. Which was why he ordered coffee. Coffee and even more calls and texts to Y/N kept him alert. He had been at the diner for three hours before she answered.

He about choked on his coffee. “Oh, thank God you’re ok. I was really getting worried.”

Y/N sniffled loudly before asking, “Do you want to come over?”

“I can be there in 10 minutes.”

* * *

Steve was skyping with Clint, surprising the both of you by knowing more than the basic sign language, and you were sipping freshly brewed coffee when your phone rang; it wasn’t a number you recognized.

He had a heavy accent, so heavy that it slurred his words. Then again, it could be what he was saying that made the ground shift under your feet. “I’m sorry, ma’am, there was nothing we could do.”

“I um… who… what happened?” Your heart was pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it would burst out at any moment.

There was a shuffle of papers before he spoke again. “Y/N Y/L/N, I have right number, yes?”

“Umm no, I mean yeah. I just… I… I… I’m not understanding.” Steve looked at you then, worry heavy on his brow.

“I’ve phoned to inform you that Brenda Y/L/N was involved in a wreck earlier today.”

If you hadn’t been leaning against the counter, you would have fallen to the floor. “Ok… yeah. So she, umm, she did… is she -,” you choked on your words.

Steve disconnected with Clint and ran over. “What’s going on, baby?” he whispered as he kissed your forehead. All you could do was shake your head, listening to the man on the phone.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We did everything we could, but we were unable to save her.”

You swallowed thickly, able to rid your voice of just enough emotion to finish the conversation. “What do you need to release the body?”

“We will need an identification and some forms signed.”

“Send me a picture and _if_ I’ve identified her, I’ll give you my email to send the forms. Once signed, I’ll send them back. Does that work?” You grabbed Steve’s shirt, scraping your nails on his side as you fisted the cotton blend shirt.

“Yes ma’am. I will send a picture. I am sorry for your loss,” genuine concern was thick on his tongue.

“Thank you,” you barely got the words out before the realization of your sister’s death hit you like a fucking freight train.

The phone clattered noiselessly on the floor and Steve pulled you tight into him. With a hand on the back of your head and between your shoulder blades, he rocked side to side as you sobbed and hyperventilated, holding you tighter yet when you cried out about how unfair it was, that Brenda was too young, and Ellie… fuck, Ellie was an orphan.

You don’t know how long you cried, but when you were done, all you wanted to do was wash your face, crawl into bed, and sleep. But first thing’s first, you needed to call Nat. No… Nat and Ellie could wait. You needed to identify the body, sign the paperwork, call Brenda’s lawyer -which was a no brainer since you shared one, and then call Nat.

Steve swept his thumbs over your damp cheeks. “What do you need me to do?”

You cleared your throat before kissing him gently. “Just stay with me.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next couple of weeks were emotional and stressful, and by far,  the hardest thing you’ve endured since your father died, but with the help of Steve, Nat, and Bucky, you and Ellie got through it. Without them, you don’t know how you would have made it. Your own grief threatened to consume you, but you had no choice but to get through it; because of Ellie.

Ellie handled the loss of her mother as you had expected; a lot of tears, confusion, and anger. She even asked if that meant she had to live with another family.

“What do you mean, Bug?”

Her grip on your hand was so tight, you wouldn’t have been surprised to see bruises. “Those families that take in kids that aren’t theirs, the ones nobody wants anymore.”

Your chest went tight with a barely contained sob. “Baby, no. You’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

“How do you know?” she implored, tears dripping off her cheeks and chin.

Sniffling and biting the inside of your cheek, you cupped her wet face in your hands and kissed her forehead. “Do you know what a Last Will and Testament is?” When she shook her head, you pulled in a shuddering breath. “A will is a legal document that someone puts together for when they-” the word got stuck in your throat, threatening to choke you.

“You can say it, Y/N,” her voice was tiny and tremulous.

Tears pricked your eyes and you smiled sadly. “For when they die.”

Dark chocolate eyes bored into yours. “Did mommy have one?”

“Yeah, bug, she did,” you answered, stroking her cheek with the back of your hand.

Ellie nodded and furrowed her brows as she thought, her eyes darting around the room. “Who get’s me?”

“El, it’s not like that.” She nodded once, biting her bottom lip in anticipation for your answer to her question. You tried answering in a way that wouldn’t make it sound like she was an object, that she was a human being, but all you could think of was, “You’re not some  _thing_ to give away, ok? How would you like to come and stay with me?”

Red-rimmed eyes went wide and she gasped. “Forever?”

“As long as you want to, bug.”

Ellie launched herself into your arms and started crying again. Small fingers tangled in your hair as you rocked side to side on her bed, your arms tight around her, crying almost as much as she was.

“You mean it?”

“Pinkie promise.”

Along with becoming Ellie’s legal guardian -paperwork had been signed by you, your lawyer, and a judge- Brenda left you everything. From the house in the Hamptons to the engagement ring Ellie’s father had presented when asking for her hand in marriage. There was also a sizable inheritance in Ellie’s name, one she couldn’t access until she was 21.

The entire estate was now in your name. No pressure.

* * *

You dropped onto the couch next to Steve, sighing heavily as you kicked your feet onto the coffee table. He turned towards you and brushed the hair from your face.

“Ellie ok?”

The breath you pulled in was ragged, making your chest ache. “She is now. It was another nightmare.”

“Her mom again?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. “It’s only been a month, I would be surprised if she weren’t still affected by everything.”

Steve pulled you into him, holding you tight to his chest, hand in your hair, mouth on your crown. “How are you doing?” Shrugging, you burrowed into his chest, threw your legs over his, and tried to keep from crying. He chuckled softly and ran his thumb up and down the back of your neck. “I was thinking we could visit Nick tomorrow, see if there’s any progress with the spear.”

Gasping, you tipped your head back. “I totally forgot about it!”

“The whole reason you came up here,” his tone was playful and he was trying hard not to smile.

You were giggling softly. “Shut up.”

Bending down, Steve dropped kisses to your forehead and nose before silencing your giggles with his lips. You sighed in contentment, scraping your nails through his beard when he nipped your bottom lip.

Your hands were buried in his hair and under his shirt when you asked, “How’d I get so lucky?”

Steve was running his nose along the column of your neck. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

A giggle spilled out, but it quickly turned into a moan as Steve sucked on your pulse point. Your body, acting on its own accord, arched into him, pulling on his shoulder blades. His lips were on your neck and his hands were pulling you onto his lap when there was a small voice calling down the hall.

The pair of you sighed heavily, but it was Steve that chuckled low in his throat. “You take care of her.”

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed should he want to actually leave.

He kissed the end of your nose. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a little girl that can’t sleep to get me to leave.”

* * *

Before leaving to meet with Nick the next day, you got a call from Clint.

“I know it’s been a few weeks, but this was a bit trickier than I anticipated,” he signed. “Everything I found and everyone I talked to confirmed that it is her, it’s Peggy.”

It wasn’t surprising, you had been mentally preparing yourself for the news that the woman claiming to be Peggy Carter was in fact, Peggy. By some crazy miracle, she survived the plane crash and went unidentified for the next couple of years.

You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair. “Thanks, Clint. How much do I owe you?” you asked, signing slowly because of the lagging WI-FI.

Clint made a face before answering, “This one is on the house, Y/N.”

“You sure? I could at least pay your travel expenses for coming here to go before the judge.” That was the next thing on the agenda, getting Peggy’s previous declaration of death overturned.

He knew you wouldn’t give up, so with a lopsided smile, he nodded in concession. “Let me know when and where.”

“See you soon,” you waved before logging out of Skype.

Ellie came down the hall, sock-clad feet shuffling along the carpet. “You ok, Y/N?” she asked solemnly.

You wrapped an arm around her after sitting next to you. “Yeah, Bug. All good.”

“Promise?” she asked, holding out her pinkie finger.

Chuckling softly, you latched your finger around hers. “Pinkie swear. Now, what do you think about coming to see where Steve works and meeting a friend of ours?”

Despite the dark circles around her eyes, Ellie gave a small smile. “Only if we can get ice cream after.”

You laughed genuinely then. “I don’t see why not. Come on, Steve’s waiting for us.”

* * *

Fury gave a wide smile and a loud greeting as the three of you came into his office. “Good timing, guys. I was going to call you later.”

You were trying not to be too excited about finding out of the lance you brought in was _the Lance_. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a stomach full of butterflies. “Oh yeah? Good news, I hope.”

“You might want to sit down.” Fury pointed to several chairs, but Ellie was the only one that sat down.

Steve placed a hand on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just ready to find out either way.” Which was the truth. Whether it was really the lance that had pierced Jesus’ side or not, you wanted to know.

Fury pulled on a pair of gloves and uncovered the lance. It looked exactly the same, not that you expected it to change, but there was a small part of your mind that expected to hear a chorus of some melodic singing; like angels or something.

“I took some samples from here,” he pointed to several spots as he talked, “here, and here, which is standard protocol. I then sent out those samples, all under false names, just to keep it under the radar as much as possible.”

“Good thinking,” you complimented your former coworker.

He smiled before continuing. “I just received the results this morning. You ready?”

It was only because of Steve’s hand on the small of your back that you were able to keep standing, your legs were shaking so hard. “As I’ll ever be.”

Fury was smiling wider than before as he pulled off his gloves and reached for the manilla folder that was next to the lance. “You want me to tell you or you wanna read it yourself?”

Your only answer was to shake your head. There was no way you’d be able to focus on letters and words right now. “Just tell me,” you practically begged.

One dark eye roamed over the results, looking for the words he read earlier that day. “Ah, here it is. Banner Labs have thoroughly tested each sample and while results are not 100% conclusive, there is enough evidence to confirm that the material tested is from the era of the Crucifixion…” it started to sound like his voice was going down a long tunnel, moving farther and farther away from you.

Everything, except for the roar of your heart, went silent. Three sets of eyes… well, two sets plus one eye, landed on you expectantly. When you didn’t… couldn’t say anything, Steve’s hands gripped your shoulders and then you were lost in his azure eyes. His mouth was moving, but you couldn’t really hear him. It was just a low rumble, no definition of words, just sound. And then it felt like the bubble in your ears snapped like a rubber band.

“-to answer me, Y/N,” Steve demanded, worry heavy on his brow. Even Ellie was tugging on your hand, softly murmuring something you couldn’t understand.

With a thick swallow and a heavy blink, you shook your head. “It’s real.”

Steve’s head fell and his grip on your shoulders tightened further. “Yeah, it’s real, babe.” He pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight, pushing the air from your lungs as he whispered, “You did it. I’m so proud of you,” into your ear.

It took several minutes for the initial shock to wear off, but when it did, tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t stop smiling. You melted into Steve and held onto Ellie’s hand as tight as you could without hurting her, choking on a sob when she pressed herself into your leg and latched an arm around your thigh.

It was Ellie that broke up the celebration, asking, “Can we still get ice cream?”


	15. Chapter 15

**_4 MONTHS LATER_ **

Ellie and Steve were splashing in the water while you stood back, hand protecting your eyes from the sun as you watched them. Every time Steve growled at her, she’d let out a shrill shriek and take off running, water slopping onto the sand as Steve took off after her. He’d hook his arms under her back and legs, burying his face in her stomach and tickle her until she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t until Ellie ran behind you, shaking and giggling, with her hands around your legs, that you got involved.

Steve stood in front of you, smiling widely, chest heaving from laughing, and his eyebrow cocked. “Where’d she run off to?” he asked playfully.

“That’s a good question,” you sighed, pretending to peer around him. Ellie’s giggles started to grow louder and her arms tightened around your legs..

The two of you narrowed your eyes at each other before Steve scratched at his beard-covered chin. “If she’s not around, who will I tickle?”

Your eyes went wide as his sparkled in the sunlight. “No,” you said firmly, grunting when you couldn’t back away. “It ain’t happening, pal.”

“Get her, Steve,” Ellie screeched, her damp hair clinging to your denim shorts.

Steve moved faster than you’d ever seen. He bent at the waist, looping an arm around your waist, and pulled you from Ellie’s grip, slapping your ass as he stood. You were protesting loudly, mostly for show, kicking your legs and smacking him in the back.

“Sit still,” he warned low in his throat.

You dropped your hands into the small of his back and pushed up, getting a good view of just how far into the water he had taken you. You were about to say something, threaten him playfully, but you didn’t get the chance. Steve pulled in a deep breath and dropped into the water, pulling you under the surface.

Ellie was screeching in excitement when you came up for air, Steve broke the surface a second later. He was laughing and wiping the water from his face. You couldn’t keep from smirking, but you also wanted to get him back.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” you asked, walking toward him.

“Hell yeah, I do,” he confirmed, nodding up to Ellie on the shore. “So does she.”

You were standing in front of him, hands on his chest, and your heart pounding in yours. “Steve, she’s 7, she thinks picking her nose is funny. Wanna see something else that is bound to make her laugh?”

Confusion washed over his face mere seconds before you swept your leg under the water, kicking his feet out from under him, and pushed as hard as you could on his chest. Steve grunted, his back slapping against the water before he disappeared beneath the surface. You knew he would ‘fight back’, so you moved through the water as fast as you could. With Ellie cheering you on, you were almost to the shore by the time he came back up.

Panting heavily and smiling wide, you stood behind Ellie, hands on her shoulders, and her arms looping back around you. Steve was storming out of the water, and headed straight towards you when you shouted, “Truce! I call a truce.”

Ellie’s shoulders were shaking as she laughed. “No more,” she agreed with you. “You win, Steve.”

“Since that’s been established,” he breathed, winking down at you and dropping a hand to Ellie’s head. “What do you say to dinner?”

“I’m starving,” you and Ellie said at the same time.

Steve shook his head as the three of you laughed, lacing his fingers with yours. “Maybe an early bedtime?” he breathed against your ear only after Ellie took off running toward the blanket and cooler.

You gnawed on your bottom lip as your thumb brushed over his pulsepoint. “That depends.”

“Depends on what?” he asked, turning you and pulling you into him when he stopped walking.

“On how good you are,” you murmured, pushing up to your toes and looping your arms around his neck.

“I think you’ll find that I can be,” Steve dipped his head and dropped a kiss to your cheek, “very,” another kiss, this time on your jaw, “very,” the next kiss was on the corner of your mouth “very good.” His mouth was on yours, nipping at your bottom lip, slanting over your mouth, pushing his tongue in to caress yours.

You melted against him, dragging your fingers through his soaked hair, tugging on the strands as you tilted your head to somehow deepen the kiss further. Both you were breathing raggedly, tearing in and out, catching in your throat, desire racing through you.

His fingers had slipped under the hem of your shirt just as Ellie turned back, wondering what was taking the two of you so long. “Gross,” she shouted, drawing out the word as long as she could.

Pulling back, you tried laughing, but your lungs burned too much. “Save that for later,” you rasped, dragging your thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip.

“That’s a promise,” he confirmed, slapping your ass before you turned, the two of you going to help clean up.

* * *

Ellie passed out on the couch not too long after cleaning her plate, and scarfing down a double scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce and sprinkles. Steve carried Ellie into her bedroom where you drew back the blankets, tucking her in once Steve placed her down, her hair fanning around her head on the pillow. The two of you snuck out of her room, although you felt as if there could be a stampede of elephants and she wouldn’t stir.

The door had barely latched when Steve’s hands were on your waist, and he was pressing you against the wall. His mouth was on yours, insistent, demanding, pulling noises from you that you didn’t know you could make. With your hands on his shoulders, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands holding you there by your ass and thighs.

Steve strode into the bedroom, echoing your moan as your bodies rubbed together, the thick bulge in his khaki shorts pushing perfectly against you. You whined at the loss of that friction as he set you on the floor, breaking the kiss as the two of you quickly got undressed, carelessly throwing items of clothing onto the floor.

While you fumbled in the drawer for a condom, Steve settled himself on the bed, back against the headboard and his legs spread, rigid and weeping cock on full display. The sight made your mouth water, but there’d be time for that later. Right then, all you wanted to do was ride him until neither of you could walk.

Kneeling between his thighs, you rolled the condom onto his twitching cock, your pussy clenching in anticipation. Steve gripped your hips as you moved, straddled his thighs, and, with your hand around his cock, swept his wide cock-head through your slick-coated folds.

“Don’t tease, Y/N,” he growled low in his throat, pupils blown wide, and his hips jumping off the bed.

You squeezed the back of his neck and slowly sank down onto him. While Steve looked down, watching as your body enveloped him, your head fell back and you were moaning as you stretched around him, the all-too-familiar bite of pain as your pelvis met his.

“Fuck,” you breathed, drawing out the curse as your back arched and you dug your nails into Steve’s scalp.

Steve swore almost as crudely as you. “You’re so damn tight and wet, Y/N,” he praised, his breath hot on your neck.

You wanted to say something back, something along the lines of _with a cock as big as yours, it was no wonder you were so tight_ , but you didn’t… couldn’t. Not when you rolled your hips and he wrapped those sinfully full lips around your nipple and sucked, twisting it with his talented tongue, nipping at it with those fucking perfect teeth.

You rolled your hips again, relishing in the sting of pain that his hands were causing on your hips and ass. Drawing back, you raised your head and watched his face, almost shattering at the look on his face. Pure bliss was written all over him; his mouth slung open, eyes almost black save for a strip of ocean blue. His chest was heaving, as was yours, as your hips met, soft at first, but neither of you wanted a slow fuck. Steve slid a hand up your back, latched onto a shoulder, and pulled you down as his hips shot up, filling the room with moans and the wet slap of skin.

Grunting and groaning your name, Steve drove into you, over and over, harder and harder, pushing you closer to the release you so desperately needed.

“Come on, baby,” Steve urged, voice completely wrecked, hand sneaking between your bodies, finding your aching clit. “I need you to cum.”

The coil snapped, and bursts of white and black exploded behind your eyes as you came, a strangled cry of his name spilling from your mouth. Your entire body felt as if it were one giant nerve that Steve kept stroking, that intoxicating push and pull of his cock, how it twitched as it swelled and pulsed. His hips stuttered and he was buried to the root, biting and sucking on your shoulder as he came.

Gasping, Steve rolled you to your back, careful not to twist your legs, and disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. You focused on your breathing, trying to get it evened out, to silence the roar of blood in your ears. Having sex with Steve always resulted in the best high, a high that nothing else could ever duplicate, a high that you wanted to experience until your dying day.

Steve rested a hand on your shoulder. “You alright?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

Pushing up, you nodded. “Just catching my breath,” you rasped.

Helping you stand, Steve kissed you warmly. “I’ll grab some water.”

Even though you moved slowly, your legs were still shaking as you climbed into bed; Steve waiting for you with a glass of cold water. You drank it quickly, soothing your parched throat immediately. After Steve set both glasses on the table and turned off the light, he pulled you into his side.

Sleep took you almost by surprise, thanks in part to the steady _thump-thump_ of his heart against your cheek. That, and the way his fingers drifted over your skin, drawing nonsensical designs and shapes.

* * *

Peggy was on the stand, giving her testimony of what happened after the plane crashed. You could see the tension and anxiety in every inch of her, from the way her foot shook from side to side, to the way she kept tucking hair behind her ear and licking her lips.

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Wanda Maximoff, the very young lawyer asked. She wasn’t prosecuting Peggy, she was just making sure all the bases were covered before the judge delivered her ruling.

“I… I had no memory,” Peggy explained, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I was lucky that a kind family found me, and took me in, caring for a complete stranger.”

Wanda turned a page in her notebook before saying, “With no memory or who you were, you came to Boston.”

Swallowing thickly, Peggy nodded. “That is correct,” she confirmed before looking at Steve. “I had this feeling. It wasn’t something I could, or can, explain. I just [i]knew[i] that the key to finding out who I was, was here.”

Steve shifted in his seat under the weight of Peggy’s gaze. Not because he was uncomfortable, but because there was such a sadness there that he couldn’t bear to see it. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you. 

“How long were you in town before your memory returned?” Wanda closed the notebook quietly before she stood, buttoning her fitted jacket.

“Not long,” she answered just loud enough to be heard.

“And what were the circumstances?”

Pulling in a shuddering breath, Peggy forced herself to look at Wanda. “I saw Steve… Steve Rogers one day after class. It was more a trickle of memories than a flood. I remembered HIM, but nothing about him. Just that he was… had been important to me at one time.”

Wanda stood next to Steve, her hand on his shoulder. “Please continue,” she directed.

Peggy cleared her throat. “Umm… I… I started following him.”

“Did you approach Mr. Rogers during that time?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I had no contact with Steve… not until the night at the club.”

Wanda looked over her shoulder at you. “The night Miss Y/L/N was there, correct?”

“Yes, Y/N was there, as well.” She looked at you before continuing.

“At this point, all of your memories had returned,” Wanda stated, stepping closer to the stand.

Peggy nodded in agreement. “They had returned not long before that night.”

Rather than embarrass Peggy by delving into just [i]how[i] her memories came back, Wanda asked, “Now that you remember everything, what will your next step be?”

“Y/N has put in a good word for me with her previous employer and Mr. Stark has offered me a position inside the company.”

“When would you start?”

Peggy smiled at you before answering, “As soon as possible.”

Giving Peggy a smile, Wanda turned her attention to Judge Odinson. “Your honor, based on the testimony of Mr. Rogers, Ms. Carter, and Mr. Barton, I have no objection to declaring Ms. Carter alive and well.”

The judge nodded in agreement and grabbed one of the fancy pens next to his name placard. “I agree, Ms. Maximoff,” he said, accented-voice low. There was a moment of silence as he scribbled his signature on several sheets of paper. “Congratulations, Ms. Carter. Welcome to land of the living,” he joked, smiling at Peggy as she stood. He dismissed the courtroom with a _bang-bang_  of his gavel.

You approached Wanda and shook her hand. “Thank you for glossing over some parts.”

“It was no problem,” she assured you, her Sokovian accent thicker than it was during court. “It wasn’t something that needed to be brought to light. If you’ll excuse me, I have another client.” After closing her briefcase, Wanda exited the room, leaving you, Peggy, and Steve alone.

Peggy was pulling back from Steve’s embrace, dark eyes wet, and a small smile on her lips. “Thank you, Y/N,” she said, turning to you and hugging you unexpectedly.

You returned the embrace, smiling at Steve over her shoulder. “You’re welcome,” you breathed.

“I mean it,” she urged, stepping back to look at you. “If you hadn’t helped with getting me a job, I don’t know what I would be doing next.”

Steve grabbed your hand and squeezed gently. “She’s amazing like that,” he praised, shooting you a quick wink.

“I know how hard it can be,” you stated. “Besides, Tony needs someone to keep him on his toes. And since I’m staying here, I couldn’t think of anyone better.”

Peggy reached into her purse and withdrew her buzzing cell phone. “Damn,” she murmured, swiping her finger over the screen quickly. “My flight got moved up.” After another round of hugs, Peggy thanked you each one more time, and jogged out of the room, her heels echoing down the hall.

Smiling wider than you had in the past six months, you and Steve walked out of the courthouse, and down the street to the diner where Bucky and Natasha were eating lunch with Ellie. The youngster was up and out of the booth, barrelling toward you with sticky hands.

“Whoa, there,” you called out.

Steve reached down and grabbed Ellie around the waist, nuzzling his beard into her neck, right where she was the most ticklish. Ellie screeched and flailed in Steve’s grip, but you didn’t have to worry about her falling, Steve’s knuckles went white as he gripped her tight.

You sat next to Nat, and Steve slid in beside Bucky. Ellie was bouncing in her seat, right next to you, her feet kicking back and forth excitedly. “How much sugar did you give her?” you asked, eyebrow arched playfully at Nat.

The Barnes’ both laughed before Bucky answered you, “None, I swear.”

Steve was laughing as Ellie’s head bobbed up and down to a beat that only she could hear. “You sure about that?”

“He’s not lying, Steve,” Ellie proclaimed, leaning into your side as you draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m just happy.”

You and Steve looked at each other with raised brows. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Ellie had been smiling a little more each day, spending less time in her room, hiding under the covers, crying herself to sleep. It was only natural, her mother had died less than six months ago. You would have been surprised if she _hadn’t_ reacted the way she had.

“Really, why is that?” you asked, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

She turned her head and pressed a kiss to your side, something she had started to do more of. “I can’t tell,” she admitted shyly. “It’s a secret.”

“What?” you sputtered, looking at Steve as if he had a clue to what Ellie was talking about.

Ellie looked up at you and smirked. “It. Is. A. Secret,” she enunciated loudly.

The four of you laughed, shaking your heads at Ellie. You didn’t want to push Ellie to talk about it, especially since you had been working with her on not blabbing to everyone something she had overheard. Nat grabbed your attention, telling you about her and Bucky’s decision to start trying for a family. While Steve play-punched his friend in the shoulder, you grabbed Natasha, and pulled her into a tight side-hug.

All thoughts of Ellie’s secret were forgotten.

* * *

You were late. You _hated_  being late. Another thing you blamed on your father. But now wasn’t the time or the place to digress. Now, you needed to haul ass. Your heels _click-clacked_  as you walked briskly, sending an echo down the hall. Glancing at your watch, you realized just how late you were.

Steve asked if you could drop by the classroom at five, that he wanted to go over the syllabus for the start of the first semester, to pick your brain and see if everything looked good to you. As if you hadn’t been busy enough with your own syllabus. Turned out that finding the _actual_  lance that pierced the side of Jesus Christ was somewhat of a big thing. Dean of the college, Loki Laufeyson, Judge Odinson’s step-brother, offered you a tenure, despite not having the qualifications for the job. You would have been a fool to turn it down.

Throwing open the classroom door, you found yourself in the pitch. “Steve?” you called out, eyes not yet adjusted to the lack of light. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

Nothing but silence greeted you. You swept your hand over the cool wall, searching almost frantically for the light switch. Finding it, you were just about to flip it when the unmistakable sound of someone flicking a match echoed in the room.

There, in the middle of the room, where Steve’s desk was, his face came into view as he lit two candles. “Come on,” he said, smiling gently as he held out his hand.

After your eyes finished adjusting, you wandered over, placed your hand in his, and smiled up at him. “What’s this all about?” you asked, motioning at the table.

He shot you a wink, and pulled the chair out for you to sit. “It’s a secret,” he breathed, dropping a kiss into your hair.

You stared at him with wide eyes as he disappeared from the room, coming back a moment later, Ellie right behind him, and she was carrying a silver dome-covered dish. Ellie placed the dish she was carrying in front of you, smiling widely before she hugged you tight. Grunting in surprise, you returned the hug. She spun quickly out of your grip and skipped across the room to Steve’s office.

“Seriously, what is going on?” you asked, more serious than before.

“You gonna see what she gave you?” he inquired, completely ignoring your question.

Huffing out a breath through your nose, you ground your jaw, biting back the slight irritation, and quickly pulled the silver dome, uncovering a black velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart was hammering so hard in your chest, you were sure Ellie could hear it. After plucking the box from the plate, Steve was kneeling next to you, the box held between his shaking hands. He looked up at you and swallowed the emotion that was clogging in his throat.

“Y/N, it has been a roller coaster for the both of us over these last handful of months,” he started, clearing his throat. “Your sister, Ellie, Peggy, the lance; but through it all, we kept each other sane, grounded, focused on what really mattered. You and Ellie are all that matter to me.”

Your breathing turned ragged and tears pricked your eyes. “Steve,” you started, but he shook his head.

“I love you,” he professed, unshed tears shining in the flickering flames. “Will you marry me?” he asked breathlessly, opening the box with still-shaking fingers.

With your fingers over your lips, you gasped. Steve proposing was the last thing you expected. Your eyes flicked from Steve’s, to the [**_ring_**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.jordanjewellery.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2017%2F04%2Fsimple-diamond-wedding-rings-engagement-jewellery-8.jpg&t=MGUzODA4NWZkYTlmMmM4OGQxOGM5ZGQwZjQyMjcxY2M2NDk0MjMyZCwzSkFhY3o1aQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ACfmOVX62N1SvYXISFQBhgQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmrs-squirrel-chester.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F161794786837%2Flancea-longini-15&m=1), and back again. “Of course,” you whispered tremulously, throat thick.

The ring was slid onto the fourth finger of your hand, which was shaking more than Steve’s. He pulled you out of the chair, wrapped you in his arms, and kissed you until neither of you could breathe.

With your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling between you, Ellie called out, “Did she say yes?”

Erupting into laughter, you turned around and jogged over, pushing the door completely open. “I did say yes,” you admitted, bending down to hug her tight.

Ellie sighed into your hair and wrapped her arms around your neck. “My wish came true,” she whispered.

Steve dropped to his knees and rested a hand on Ellie’s back. “What wish was that, sweetie?”

Ellie mumbled unintelligibly into your hair. Furrowing your brows, you unhooked Ellie’s arms, and pushed away from her, cupping her chin and forcing her to look at you. “Do you remember what I have always told you?”

“That I can tell you anything,” she whispered, wide eyes staring at you with tears gathering in the corners.

“Exactly,” you confirmed, brushing your thumb over her chin and jaw. “What was your wish?”

Ellie shuffled her feet, swallowing loudly before answering, “I wished to have a family again.”

“Oh, Bug,” you breathed, wrapping the child in your arms. “I will always be your family.”

Steve kissed your temple and pulled the two of you into him, tears pushing past his eyelashes, repeating your statement as he dropped a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head.


	16. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been one year since since your sister died, since you adopted her daughter, since Steve proposed, and the Spear of Destiny was authenticated. In need of a mini-vacation, Steve plans a weekend away from it all.

It was two weeks before classes started, you and Steve were insanely busy getting your syllabus together, Ellie was skipping around the newly purchased condo, singing about how excited she was for school, and you were exhausted. 

**“Can you keep a secret?”** you overheard Steve whisper to Ellie as you laid on the couch.

She giggled and jumped up and down. “I love secrets.” 

Steve chuckled as he hushed Ellie. “You get to stay with Nat and Bucky for the weekend.”

You couldn’t help but take a peek at them. Ellie’s hand was over her mouth as she tried to muffle the shriek that erupted from her. The crinkles that surrounded Steve’s eyes pushed deep into his skin as he smiled wide. She launched herself at Steve, almost toppling the pair of them over, and hugged him.

“The whole weekend?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“The whole weekend,” Steve promised.

She pushed away from him just enough to look into his eyes. “Why is it a secret?”

“Because, I’m taking Y/N on a road trip,” he admitted, chuckling at the way Ellie’s face scrunched up.

“A road trip?” she questioned, her dark blonde eyebrow arched high.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. He threw his head back as the room filled with the rich sound of it. “Trust me, bug, she’ll love it.”

“If you say so.” Ellie still didn’t sound convinced, but then again, she was just a child.

“A road trip sounds like an amazing idea,” you mumbled from the couch.

Ellie glared at Steve playfully, hands perched on her hips. “You said it was a secret.”

“You weren’t exactly quiet, bug,” you teased, pushing up from your spot. Ellie’s smile was wide, pushing dimples deep into her cheeks as she bolted across the room and into your arms.

A year had flown by since her mother, your sister, was killed in a freak car accident, and every time Ellie saw you, she gave you the biggest hug, as if she would never see you again. There were times where it was annoying, mostly when you’d had a shitty day and just wanted to be by yourself. But to deny your legally-adopted-daughter a hug was the cruelest thing you could think of.

You grunted as she squeezed the air from your lungs. “Ease up a little,” you chuckled, stroking her hair and back.

Ellie giggled softly and kissed your cheek. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“I did,” you answered. “Now, why don’t you get packed. I assume we’re leaving soon?” you asked Steve over Ellie’s shoulder.

He pushed up from the floor and nodded. “Told Buck we’d be there ‘round 2.” Ellie skipped off, disappearing up the steps while singing about what she was going to do with her newly-christened godparents.

With a yawn, you grabbed Steve’s hands and pulled yourself off the couch. “I should probably pack, huh?”

“Nah,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around your waist, large hands pressing into your back. “Already took care of it.”

You rested your hands on his biceps and narrowed your eyes. “You packed my things.”

“Ellie helped,” he added with a smirk.

“Heaven help me,” you chuckled.

* * *

It was chillier than the weatherman said it would be. Wearing your favorite sweatshirt, you hooked your arm in Steve’s and strolled leisurely around the small town. You took in the sights, ate at the family-owned-and-run diner, took selfies by the this-is-what-makes-our-town-special monument, checked out the antique shops, bought more-than-you-should-have locally made trinkets… anything and everything that could have been done, the two of you did it.

By the time you got back to the bed and breakfast, you were so tired, you could barely keep your eyes open. Despite your grumbling stomach, you stripped out of your clothes, threw on one of Steve’s shirts, and crawled into bed. You barely felt Steve crawl in beside you, wrap his arms around you, and kiss your forehead.

* * *

It was the sun that woke you; peeking in through the curtains, a sliver of light dancing across your eyes as the curtain blew in the early morning breeze. You reached out for Steve, but a cool sheet was the only thing you found. Steve was a creature of habit, whether at home, or out of town, the man always went for an early morning run.

Taking a peek at your phone, you saw it was just after 6. He would be gone for at least another hour. That gave you plenty of time to get ready.

Steve found you draped over the toilet, your hair tied in a messy knot, legs spread out, a bottle of water on the floor. You were moaning pitifully when he dropped down next to you.

“What happened?” he choked, his hand on your back. “Are you okay?”

With your forehead on your forearm, you rolled your head to the side. “Just got super queasy all of a sudden.”

“What do you need?” Steve asked, brushing hair off your face and behind your ear.

Groaning low and heavy, you pointed to the counter. “There’s a thermometer in the bag. Can you grab it?”

Steve dropped a kiss to your temple, stood, and crossed the room in less than two strides. The bag wasn’t large, by any means, but he tore through it like it housed the Ark of the Covenant. Standing there, he was shaking his head, holding two things in his hands.

“I can’t find it,” he announced breathlessly. “Are you sure you brought it?”

You tried to keep the smirk from seeping into your voice. “It’s in your left hand.”

Dark blue eyes darted to his hand, but he shook his head. “No, that’s a pregnancy test.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he did a double take. “A… a pre- pregnancy test. Are… are you pregnant?” Steve asked, whirling around to see you push off the floor.

There were tears in your eyes when you nodded. “Found out last week.”

“I’m… I’m gonna be a dad,” he breathed, voice shaking, eyes falling to the digital test in his hand. “I’m gonna be a dad!” Steve had you in his arms, your feet off the floor, spinning in a circle.

Once your feet were back on the floor, you reached up to wipe away the tears from his cheeks. “Are you happy?”

“Are you kidding me? This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Steve cupped your face and kissed you, slow, taking his time, as if committing to memory everything about the way you tasted and felt. You sniffled loudly when he dropped to his knees and pushed your shirt up, kissing the newly-exposed skin. His whiskers tickled you, pulling a giggle from you. 

Carding your fingers through his hair, you looked down and smiled at your fiance. “Me, too.”


End file.
